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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/28670-h.zip b/28670-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ce4ab90 --- /dev/null +++ b/28670-h.zip diff --git a/28670-h/28670-h.htm b/28670-h/28670-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..75311db --- /dev/null +++ b/28670-h/28670-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3647 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Arizona's Yesterday, by John H. Cady. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + p { margin-top: .5em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .5em; + text-indent: 1em; + } + h1 { + text-align: center; font-family: garamond, serif; /* all headings centered */ + } + h5,h6 { + text-align: center; font-family: garamond, serif; /* all headings centered */ + } + h2 { + text-align: center; font-family: garamond, serif; /* all headings centered */ + } + h3 { + text-align: center; font-family: garamond, serif; /* all headings centered */ + } + h4 { + text-align: center; font-family: garamond, serif; /* all headings centered */ + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + a {text-decoration: none} /* no lines under links */ + div.centered {text-align: center;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 1 */ + div.centered table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 2 */ + + .cen {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em;} /* centering paragraphs */ + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 100%;} /* small caps, normal size */ + .noin {text-indent: 0em;} /* no indenting */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blockquot {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} /* block indent */ + .right {text-align: right; padding-right: 2em;} /* right aligning paragraphs */ + .totoi {position: absolute; right: 2%; font-size: 75%; text-align: right;} /* to Table of Illustrations link */ + .img {text-align: center; padding: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} /* centering images */ + .tdr {text-align: right;} /* right align cell */ + .tdl {text-align: left;} /* left align cell */ + .tr {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 1em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} /* transcriber's notes */ + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; right: 2%; + font-size: 75%; + text-align: right; + text-indent: 0em; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal;} /* page numbers */ + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 90%;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right; font-size: 90%;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: text-top; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 15%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em;} + .poem span.i14 {display: block; margin-left: 14em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Arizona's Yesterday, by +John H. Cady and Basil Dillon Woon + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Arizona's Yesterday + Being the Narrative of John H. Cady, Pioneer + +Author: John H. Cady + Basil Dillon Woon + +Release Date: May 3, 2009 [EBook #28670] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARIZONA'S YESTERDAY *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Kosker and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="img"> +<img border="0" src="images/cover.jpg" width="45%" alt="Book Cover" /><br /> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="img"><a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a> +<a href="images/frontis.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/frontis.jpg" width="48%" alt="John H. Cady" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">JOHN H. CADY, 68 YEARS, SOLDIER OF FORTUNE, ON THE +SONOITA, DECEMBER, 1914<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h1>ARIZONA'S YESTERDAY</h1> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h5>BEING</h5> + +<h4>THE NARRATIVE OF</h4> + +<h2>JOHN H. CADY</h2> + +<h3>PIONEER</h3> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="img"> +<img border="0" src="images/deco.jpg" width="5%" alt="Publisher's Mark" /> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h5>Rewritten and Revised by</h5> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Basil Dillon Woon</span><br /> +1915</h3> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<p class="cen">Copyright, 1916,<br /> +By John H. Cady.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>TO<br /> +<br /> + +THE PIONEERS WHO ARE LIVING</h3> +<br /> +<h4>AND TO</h4> +<br /> +<h3>THE MEMORIES OF<br /> +THOSE WHO ARE DEAD</h3> +<br /> +<p class="cen"><i>this book</i>,</p> +<br /> + +<div style="margin-left: 25%; margin-right: 20%;">in affectionate tribute to the gallant courage, +rugged independence and wonderful endurance +of those adventurous souls who formed the +vanguard of civilization in the early history of +the Territory of Arizona and the remainder of +the Great West,</div> +<br /> + +<p class="cen"><i>is dedicated</i>.</p> +<br /> + +<div style="margin-left: 75%;"> +<p class="noin"><span class="smcap">John H. Cady</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Basil D. Woon</span><br /> +<br /> +Patagonia,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Arizona,</span><br /> +Nineteen-Fifteen.</p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +<br /> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>When I first broached the matter of writing his autobiography to John H. +Cady, two things had struck me particularly. One was that of all the +literature about Arizona there was little that attempted to give a +straight, chronological and <i>intimate</i> description of events that +occurred during the early life of the Territory, and, second, that of +all the men I knew, Cady was best fitted, by reason of his extraordinary +experiences, remarkable memory for names and dates, and seniority in +pioneership, to supply the work that I felt lacking.</p> + +<p>Some years ago, when I first came West, I happened to be sitting on the +observation platform of a train bound for the orange groves of Southern +California. A lady with whom I had held some slight conversation on the +journey turned to me after we had left Tucson and had started on the +long and somewhat dreary journey across the desert that stretches from +the "Old Pueblo" to "San Berdoo," and said:</p> + +<p>"Do you know, I actually used to believe all those stories about the +'wildness of the West.' I see how badly I was mistaken."</p> + +<p>She had taken a half-hour stroll about Tucson while the train changed +crews and had been impressed by the—to the casual observer—sleepiness +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>of the ancient town. She told me that never again would she look on a +"wild West" moving picture without wanting to laugh. She would not +believe that there had ever been a "wild West"—at least, not in +Arizona. And yet it is history that the old Territory of Arizona in days +gone by was the "wildest and woolliest" of all the West, as any old +settler will testify.</p> + +<p>There is no doubt that to the tourist the West is now a source of +constant disappointment. The "movies" and certain literature have +educated the Easterner to the belief that even now Indians go on the +war-path occasionally, that even now cowboys sometimes find an outlet +for their exuberant spirits in the hair-raising sport of "shooting up +the town," and that even now battles between the law-abiding cattlemen +and the "rustlers" are more or less frequent. When these people come +west in their comfortable Pullmans and discover nothing more interesting +in the shape of Indians than a few old squaws selling trinkets and +blankets on station platforms, as at Yuma; when they visit one of the +famous old towns where in days gone by white men were wont to sleep with +one eye and an ear open for marauding Indians, and find electric cars, +modern office buildings, paved streets crowded with luxurious motors, +and the inhabitants nonchalantly pursuing the even tenor of their ways +garbed in habiliments strongly suggestive of Forty-fourth street and +Broadway; when they come West and note these signs of an <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>advancing and +all-conquering civilization, I say, they invariably are disappointed. +One lady I met even thought "how delightful" it would be "if the Apaches +would only hold up the train!" It failed altogether to occur to her +that, in the days when wagon-trains <i>were</i> held up by Apaches, few of +those in them escaped to tell the gruesome tale. And yet this estimable +lady, fresh from the drawing-rooms of Upper-Radcliffe-on-the-Hudson and +the ballroom of Rector's, thought how "delightful" this would be! Ah, +fortunate indeed is it that the pluck and persistence of the pioneers +carved a way of peace for the pilgrims of today!</p> + +<p>Considering the foregoing, such a book as this, presenting as it does in +readable form the Arizona West as it <i>really was</i>, is, in my opinion, +most opportune and fills a real need. The people have had fiction +stories from the capable pens of Stewart Edward White and his companions +in the realm of western literature, and have doubtless enjoyed their +refreshing atmosphere and daring originality, but, despite this, fiction +localized in the West and founded however-much on fact, does <i>not</i> +supply all the needs of the Eastern reader, who demands the truth about +those old days, presented in a compact and <i>intimate</i> form. I cannot too +greatly emphasize that word "intimate," for it signifies to me the +quality that has been most lacking in authoritative works on the Western +country.</p> + +<p>When I first met Captain Cady I found him the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>very personification of +what he ought not to have been, considering the fact that he is one of +the oldest pioneers in Arizona. Instead of peacefully awaiting the close +of a long and active career in some old soldiers' home, I found him +energetically superintending the hotel he owns at Patagonia, Santa Cruz +county—and with a badly burned hand, at that. There he was, with a +characteristic chef's top-dress on him (Cady is well known as a +first-class cook), standing behind the wood-fire range himself, +permitting no one else to do the cooking, allowing no one else to +shoulder the responsibilities that he, as a man decidedly in the autumn +of life, should by all the rules of the "game" have long since +relinquished.</p> + +<p>Where this grizzled old Indian fighter, near his three-score-and-ten, +should have been white-haired, he was but gray; where he should have +been inflicted with the kindred illnesses of advancing old age he simply +owned up, and sheepishly at that, to a burned hand. Where he should have +been willing to lay down his share of civic responsibility and let the +"young fellows" have a go at the game, he was as ever on the +firing-line, his name in the local paper a half-dozen times each week. +Oh, no, it is wrong to say that John H. Cady <i>was</i> a fighter—wrong in +the spirit of it, for, you see, he is very much of a fighter, now. He +has lost not one whit of that aggressiveness and sterling courage that +he always has owned, the only difference being that, instead of fighting +Indians and bad men, he is now fighting the forces <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>of evil within his +own town and contesting, as well, the grim advances made by the +relentless Reaper.</p> + +<p>In travels that have taken me over a good slice of Mother Earth, and +that have brought me into contact with all sorts and conditions of men, +I have never met one whose friendship I would rather have than that of +John H. Cady. If I were asked to sum him up I would say that he is a +<i>true</i> man—a true father, a true and courageous fighter, and a true +American. He is a man anybody would far sooner have with him than +against him in a controversy. If so far as world-standards go he has not +achieved fame—I had rather call it "notoriety"—it is because of the +fact that the present-day standards do not fit the men whom they ignore. +With those other men who were the wet-nurses of the West in its +infantile civilization, this hardy pioneer should be honored by the +present generation and his name handed down to posterity as that of one +who fought the good fight of progress, and fought well, with weapons +which if perhaps crude and clumsy—as the age was crude and clumsy +judged by Twentieth Century standards—were at least most remarkably +effective.</p> + +<p>The subject of this autobiography has traveled to many out of the way +places and accomplished many remarkable things, but the most astonishing +thing about him is the casual and unaffected way in which he, in +retrospect, views his extraordinarily active life. He talks to me as +unconcernedly of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>tramping hundreds of miles across a barren desert +peopled with hostile Indians as though it were merely a street-car trip +up the thoroughfares of one of Arizona's progressive cities. He talks of +desperate rides through a wild and dangerous country, of little scraps, +as he terms them, with bands of murderous Apaches, of meteoric rises +from hired hand to ranch foreman, of adventurous expeditions into the +realm of trade when everything was a risk in a land of uncertainty, of +journeys through a foreign and wild country "dead broke"—of these and +many similar things, as though they were commonplace incidents scarcely +worthy of mention.</p> + +<p>Yet the story of Cady's life is, I venture to state, one of the most +gripping and interesting ever told, both from an historical and from a +human point of view. It illustrates vividly the varied fortunes +encountered by an adventurous pioneer of the old days in Arizona and +contains, besides, historical facts not before recorded that cannot help +making the work of unfailing interest to all who know, or wish to know, +the State.</p> + +<p>For you, then, reader, who love or wish to know the State of Arizona, +with its painted deserts, its glorious skies, its wonderful mountains, +its magical horizons, its illimitable distances, its romantic past and +its magnificent possibilities, this little book has been written.</p> + +<p class="right smcap">Basil Dillon Woon.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" width="60%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"> </td> + <td class="tdr"><span style="font-size: 80%;">PAGE</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap" width="90%"><a href="#The">The Boy Soldier</a></td> + <td class="tdr" width="10%">13</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Following">Following the Argonauts</a></td> + <td class="tdr">17</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Rough">Rough and Tumble on Land and Sea</a></td> + <td class="tdr">37</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Through">Through Mexico and Back to Arizona</a></td> + <td class="tdr">50</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Stage">Stage Driver's Luck</a></td> + <td class="tdr">61</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#A">A Frontier Business Man</a></td> + <td class="tdr">71</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Ventures">Ventures and Adventures</a></td> + <td class="tdr">80</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Indian">Indian Warfare</a></td> + <td class="tdr">92</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Deputy">Deputy Sheriff, Cattleman and Farmer</a></td> + <td class="tdr">102</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#In">In Age the Cricket Chirps and Brings—</a></td> + <td class="tdr">115</td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<a name="toi" id="toi"></a><br /> +<br /> +<p class="cen"><span class="smcap">ILLUSTRATIONS</span></p> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" width="60%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap" width="85%"><a href="#frontis">John H. Cady</a></td> + <td class="tdr" width="15%">Frontispiece</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#imagep020">Old Barracks in Tucson</a></td> + <td class="tdr">20</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#imagep028">Ruins of Fort Buchanan</a></td> + <td class="tdr">28</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#imagep044">Cady's House on the Sonoita</a></td> + <td class="tdr">44</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#imagep060">Ruins of Fort Crittenden</a></td> + <td class="tdr">60</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#imagep076">The Old Ward Homestead</a></td> + <td class="tdr">76</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#imagep092">Sheep Camp on the Sonoita</a></td> + <td class="tdr">92</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#imagep108">Cady and his Family</a></td> + <td class="tdr">108</td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +<br /> +<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +<br /> +<h1>ARIZONA'S YESTERDAY</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><a name="The" id="The"></a> +<br /> + +<h2>THE BOY SOLDIER</h2> +<br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>For the right that needs assistance,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For the wrong that needs resistance,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For the future in the distance,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And the good that they could do.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Fourteen years before that broad, bloody line began to be drawn between +the North and the South of the "United States of America," before there +came the terrific clash of steel and muscle in front of which the entire +world retreated to a distance, horrified, amazed, fascinated and +confounded; before there came the dreadful day when families were +estranged and birthrights surrendered, loves sacrificed and the blight +of the bullet placed on hundreds of thousands of sturdy hearts—fourteen +years before this, on the banks of the mighty Ohio at Cincinnati, I was +born, on September 15, 1846. My parents were John N. Cady, of +Cincinnati, and Maria Clingman Cady, who was of German descent, and of +whom I remember little owing to the fact that she died when I reached my +third birthday.</p> + +<p>Ah, Cincinnati! To me you shall always be my City of Destiny, for it was +within your boundaries <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>that I, boy and man, met my several fates. One +sent me through the turmoil and suffering of the Civil War; another sent +me westward mounted on the wings of youthful hope and ambition. For that +alone I am ever in the debt of Ohio's fairest city, which I hope to see +again some day before there sounds for me the Taps.... But I do not +know. The tide of life is more than past its ebb for me and I should be +thinking more of a quiet rest on the hillside, my face turned to the +turquoise blue of Arizona's matchless infinity, than to the treading +again of noisy city streets in the country of my birth.</p> + +<p>But this is to be a story of Arizona, and I must hasten through the +events that occurred prior to my leaving for the West. When I had +reached three years of age my father married again—a milliner—and +moved to Philadelphia. My grandmother, who had raised me practically +from birth, removed with me to Maysville in Kentucky, where I was sent +to school. Some of my pleasantest memories now are of that period in the +old-fashioned Kentucky river town.</p> + +<p>Just after my ninth birthday my father came back to Maysville, claimed +me, took me to Philadelphia with him and afterwards turned me over to +one William Turner, his wife's brother, who was the owner of a farm on +the eastern shore of Maryland. I stayed at the Turner farm until the +outbreak of the Civil War in the fall of '61, when my father, who was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>then working for Devlin & Son, clothiers, with headquarters at Broadway +and Warren streets, New York City, enlisted in Duryea's Zouaves as +orderly sergeant in Company K. The Zouaves wintered at Federal Hill, +Baltimore, and I joined my father and the regiment there. In the spring +we moved to Washington, joining there the great Army of the Potomac, +with which we stayed during that army's succession of magnificent +battles, until after the Fredericksburg fight in '63.</p> + +<p>In Washington we were quartered at Arlington Heights and I remember that +I used to make pocket money by buying papers at the Washington railway +depot and selling them on the Heights. The papers were, of course, full +of nothing but war news, some of them owing their initial publication to +the war, so great was the public's natural desire for news of the +titanic struggle that was engulfing the continent. Then, as now, there +were many conflicting statements as to the movements of troops, and so +forth, but the war correspondents had full rein to write as they +pleased, and the efforts of some of them stand out in my memory today as +marvels of word-painting and penned rhetoric.</p> + +<p>When Grant took command of the Army of the Potomac I left the army, +three or four days before reinforcements for General Sherman, who was +then making preparations for his famous "march to the sea," left for +Kentucky. At Aguire Creek, near Washington, I purchased a cargo of +apples for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>$900—my first of two exceedingly profitable ventures in the +apple-selling industry—and, after selling them at a handsome profit, +followed Sherman's reinforcements as far as Cincinnati. I did not at +this time stay long in the city of my birth, going in a few days to Camp +Nelson, Ky., where I obtained work driving artillery horses to Atlanta +and bringing back to Chattanooga condemned army stock. Even at that +time—1864—the proud old city of Atlanta felt the shadow of its +impending doom, but few believed Sherman would go to the lengths he did.</p> + +<p>After the close of the war in 1865 I enlisted in Cincinnati, on October +12, in the California Rocky Mountain service. Before this, however, I +had shipped in the Ram Vindicator of the Mississippi Squadron and after +being transferred to the gunboat Syren had helped move the navy yard +from Mound City, Ill., to Jefferson Barracks, St. Louis, Mo., where it +still is.</p> + +<p>I was drafted in the First United States Cavalry and sent to Carlisle +Barracks in Pennsylvania, from which place I traveled to New Orleans, +where I joined my regiment. I was allotted to Company C and remember my +officers to have been Captain Dean, First Lieutenant Vail and Second +Lieutenant Winters. Soon after my arrival in New Orleans we commenced +our journey to California, then the golden country of every man's dreams +and the Mecca of every man's ambition.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><a name="Following" id="Following"></a> +<br /> + +<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +<br /> +<h2>FOLLOWING THE ARGONAUTS</h2> +<br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>So it's Westward Ho! for the land of worth,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Where the "is," not "was" is vital;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Where brawn for praise must win the earth,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Nor risk its new-born title.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Where to damn a man is to say he ran,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And heedless seeds are sown,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Where the thrill of strife is the spice of life,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And the creed is "GUARD YOUR OWN!"</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10 smcap">—Woon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>When the fast mail steamer which had carried us from the Isthmus of +Panama (we had journeyed to the Isthmus from New Orleans in the little +transport McClellan), steamed through the Golden Gate and anchored off +the Presidio I looked with great eagerness and curiosity on the +wonderful city known in those days as "the toughest hole on earth," of +which I had read and heard so much and which I had so longed to see. I +saw a city rising on terraces from the smooth waters of a glorious bay +whose wavelets were tempered by a sunshine that was as brilliant as it +was ineffective against the keen sea-breeze of winter. The fog that had +obscured our sight outside the Golden Gate was now gone—vanished like +the mist-wraiths of the long-ago philosophers, and the glorious city of +San Francisco was revealed to view.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>I say "glorious," but the term must be understood to apply only to the +city's surroundings, which were in truth magnificent. She looked like +some imperial goddess, her forehead encircled by the faint band of mist +that still lingered caressingly to the mountain tops, her countenance +glistening with the dew on the green hill-slopes, her garments quaintly +fashioned for her by the civilization that had brought her into being, +her slippers the lustrous waters of the Bay itself. Later I came to know +that she, too, was a goddess of moods, and dangerous moods; a coquette +to some, a love to others, and to many a heartless vampire that sucked +from them their hard-wrung dust, scattered their gold to the four winds +of avarice that ever circled enticingly about the vortex of shallow joys +that the City harbored, and, after intoxicating them with her beauty and +her wine, flung them aside to make ready for the next comer. Too well +had San Francisco merited the title I give it in the opening lines of +this chapter. Some say that the earthquake and the fire came like +vitriol cast on the features of a beautiful woman for the prostitution +of her charms; but I, who lost little to her lures, am not one to judge.</p> + +<p>My memories of San Francisco are at any rate a trifle hazy now, for it +is many, many years since I last saw the sun set over the Marin hills. +An era has passed since the glamour of the Coast of High Barbaree +claimed my youthful attention. But I remember a city as evil within as +it was lovely <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>without, a city where were gathered the very dregs of +humanity from the four corners of the earth. What Port Said is now, San +Francisco was then, only worse. For every crime that is committed in the +dark alleys of the Suez port or the equally murky callejons of the +pestholes of Mexico, four were committed in the beautiful Californian +town when I first went there. Women as well as men carried "hardware" +strapped outside, and scarcely one who had not at some time found this +precaution useful. The city abounded with footpads and ruffians of every +nationality and description, whose prices for cutting a throat or +"rolling a stiff" depended on the cupidity of the moment or on the +quantity of liquor their capacious stomachs held. Scores of killings +occurred and excited little comment.</p> + +<p>Thousands of men were daily passing in and out of the city, drawn by the +lure of the Sierra gold-fields; some of these came back with the joy of +dreams come true and full pokes hung around their necks, some came with +the misery of utter failure in their hearts, and some—alas, they were +many, returned not at all.</p> + +<p>The Barbary Coast was fast gaining for itself an unenviable reputation +throughout the world. Every time one walked on Pacific street with any +money in pocket he took his life in his hand. <i>"Guard Your Own!"</i> +was the accepted creed of the time and woe to him who could not do so. +Gold was thrown about like water. The dancing girls made fabulous <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>sums +as commissions on drinks their consorts could be persuaded to buy. +Hundreds of thousands of dollars were spent nightly in the great temples +devoted to gambling, and there men risked on the luck of a moment or the +turn of a painted wheel fortunes wrung from the soil by months and +sometimes years of terrific work in the diggings. The most famous +gamblers of the West at that time made their headquarters in San +Francisco, and they came from all countries. England contributed not a +few of these gentlemen traders in the caprices of fortune, France her +quota, Germany very few and China many; but these last possessed the +dives, the lowest kind of gambling places, where men went only when they +were desperate and did not care.</p> + +<p>We were not at this time, however, to be given an opportunity to see as +much of San Francisco as most of us would have liked. After a short stay +at the Presidio we were sent to Wilmington, then a small port in the +southern part of the State but now incorporated in the great city of Los +Angeles. Here we drew our horses for the long trek across the desert to +our future home in the Territory of Arizona. There was no railroad at +that time in California, the line not even having been surveyed as far +as San Jose, which was already a city but, instead of being, as now, the +market-place for a dozen fertile and beautiful valleys, she was then +merely an outfitting point for parties of travelers, prospectors, +cattlemen and the like, and was also a station and terminus for +various stage lines.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep020" id="imagep020"></a> +<a href="images/imagep020.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep020.jpg" width="90%" alt="Old Barracks on North Side of Alameda Street" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;">OLD BARRACKS (1912) ON NORTH SIDE OF ALAMEDA STREET, NEAR +MAIN, WHERE <span class="smcap">Co. C, 1st</span> U. S. CAVALRY, CAMPED IN 1866 ON ITS ARRIVAL IN +TUCSON<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>Through San Jose, too, came those of the gold-seekers, bound for the +high Sierras on the border of the desert, who had not taken the +Sacramento River route and had decided to brave instead the dangers of +the trail through the fertile San Joaquin, up to the Feather River and +thus into the diggings about Virginia City. Gold had been found by that +time in Nevada and hundreds of intrepid men were facing the awful Mojave +and Nevada deserts, blazing hot in day-time and icy cold at night, to +seek the new Eldorados. Since this is a book about pioneers, and since I +am one of them, it is fitting to stay awhile and consider what +civilization owes to these daring souls who formed the vanguard of her +army. Cecil Rhodes opened an Empire by mobilizing a black race; Jim Hill +opened another when he struck westward with steel rails. But the +pioneers of the early gold rushes created an empire of immense riches +with no other aid than their own gnarled hands and sturdy hearts. They +opened up a country as vast as it was rich, and wrested from the very +bosom of Mother Earth treasures that had been in her jealous keeping for +ages before the era of Man. They braved sudden death, death from thirst +and starvation, death from prowling savages, death from the wild +creatures,—all that the works of man might flourish where they had not +feared to tread. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>It is the irony of fate that these old pioneers, many +of whom hated civilization and were fleeing from her guiles, should have +been the advance-guard of the very Power they sought to avoid.</p> + +<p>The vast empire of Western America is strewn with the bones of these +men. Some of them lie in kindly resting places, the grass over their +graves kept green by loving friends; some lie uncared for in potters' +fields or in the cemeteries of homes for the aged, and some—a vast +horde—still lie bleached and grim, the hot sand drifted over them by +the desert winds.</p> + +<p>But, wherever they lie, all honor to the pioneer! There should be a day +set apart on which every American should revere the memory of those men +of long ago who hewed the way for the soft paths that fall to the +generation of today.</p> + +<p>What San Bernardino is now to the west-bound traveler, Wilmington was +then—the end of the desert. From Wilmington eastward stretched one +tremendous ocean of sand, interspersed here and there by majestic +mountains in the fastnesses of which little fertile valleys with clear +mountain streams were to be discovered later by the pioneer +homesteaders. Where now are miles upon miles of yellow-fruited orange +and lemon groves, betraying the care and knowledge of a later generation +of scientific farmers, were then only dreary, barren wastes, with only +the mountains and clumps of sagebrush, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>soapweed, cacti, creosote bushes +and mesquite to break the everlasting monotony of the prospect.</p> + +<p>Farming then, indeed, was almost as little thought of as irrigation, for +men's minds were fixed on the star of whitest brilliancy—<i>Gold</i>. Men +even made fortunes in the diggings and returned East and bought farms, +never realizing that what might be pushed above the soil of California +was destined to prove of far greater consequence than anything men would +ever find hidden beneath.</p> + +<p>The march to Arizona was both difficult and dangerous, and was to be +attempted safely only by large parties. Water was scarce and wells few +and far between, and there were several stretches as, for instance, that +between what are now known as the Imperial Mountains and Yuma, of more +than sixty miles with no water at all. The well at Dos Palmas was not +dug until a later date. Across these stretches the traveler had to +depend on what water he could manage to pack in a canteen strung around +his waist or on his horse or mule. On the march were often to be seen, +as they are still, those wonderful desert mirages of which so much has +been written by explorers and scientists. Sometimes these took the form +of lakes, fringed with palms, which tantalized and ever kept mockingly +at a distance. Many the desert traveler who has been cruelly deceived by +these mirages!</p> + +<p>Yuma, of which I have just spoken, is famed for many reasons. For one +thing, the story that United <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>States army officers "raised the +temperature of the place thirty degrees" to be relieved from duty there, +has been laughed at wherever Americans have been wont to congregate. And +that old story told by Sherman, of the soldier who died at Yuma after +living a particularly vicious existence here below, and who soon +afterwards telegraphed from Hades for his blankets, has also done much +to heighten the reputation of the little city, which sometimes still has +applied to it the distinction of being the hottest place in the United +States. This, however, is scarcely correct, as many places in the +Southwest—Needles in California, and the Imperial Valley are +examples—have often demonstrated higher temperatures than have ever +been known at Yuma. A summer at the little Colorado River town is quite +hot enough, however, to please the most tropical savage. It may be +remarked here, in justice to the rest of the State, that the temperature +of Yuma is not typical of Arizona as a whole. In the region I now live +in—the Sonoita Valley in the southeastern part of the State, and in +portions around Prescott, the summer temperatures are markedly cool and +temperate.</p> + +<p>Yuma, however, is not famed for its temperature alone; in fact, that +feature of its claim to notice is least to be considered. The real +noteworthy fact about Yuma from a historical point of view is that, as +Arizona City, it was one of the earliest-settled points in the Territory +and was at first easily the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>most important. The route of the major +portion of the Forty-Niners took them across the Colorado River where +Fort Yuma was situated on the California side; and the trend of +exploration, business and commerce a few years later flowed westward to +Yuma over the picturesque plains of the Gadsden Purchase. The famous +California Column ferried itself across the Colorado at Yuma, and later +on the Overland Mail came through the settlement. It is now a division +point on the Southern Pacific Railway, just across the line from +California, and has a population of three or four thousand.</p> + +<p>At the time I first saw the place there was only Fort Yuma, on the +California side of the river, and a small settlement on the Arizona side +called Arizona City. It had formerly been called Colorado City, but the +name was changed when the town was permanently settled. There were two +ferries in operation at Yuma when our company arrived there, one of them +run by the peaceable Yuma Indians and the other by a company headed by +Don Diego Jaeger and Hartshorne. Fort Yuma had been established in 1851 +by Major Heintzelman, U.S.A., but owing to scurvy (see De Long's history +of Arizona) and the great difficulty in getting supplies, the Colorado +River being then uncharted for traffic, it was abandoned and not +permanently re-established until a year later, when Major Heintzelman +returned from San Diego. The townsite of Colorado City was laid out in +1854, but floods wiped out the town with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>the result that a permanent +settlement, called Arizona City, was not established until about 1862, +four years before I reached there.</p> + +<p>The first steamboat to reach Yuma with supplies was the Uncle Sam, which +arrived in 1852. Of all this I can tell, of course, only by hearsay, but +there is no doubt that the successful voyage of the Uncle Sam to Yuma +established the importance of that place and gave it pre-eminence over +any other shipping point into the territories for a long time.</p> + +<p>Until the coming of the railroad, supplies for Arizona were shipped from +San Francisco to the mouth of the Colorado and ferried from there up the +river to Yuma, being there transferred to long wagon trains which +traveled across the plains to Tucson, which was then the distributing +point for the whole Territory.</p> + +<p>Tucson was, of course, the chief city. I say "city" only in courtesy, +for it was such in importance only, its size being smaller than an +ordinary eastern village. Prescott, which was the first Territorial +Capital; Tubac, considered by many the oldest settled town in Arizona, +near which the famous mines worked by Sylvester Mowry were located; +Ehrenberg, an important stage point; Sacaton, in the Pima and Maricopa +Indian country, and other small settlements such as Apache Pass, which +was a fort, were already in existence. The Gadsden Purchase having been +of very recent date, most of the population was Indian, after which came +the Mexicans <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>and Spaniards and then the Americans, who arrogantly +termed themselves the Whites, although the Spaniards possessed fully as +white a complexion as the average pioneer from the eastern states. Until +recently the Indian dominated the white man in Arizona in point of +numbers, but fortunately only one Indian race—the Apache—showed +unrelenting hostility to the white man and his works. Had all the +Arizona Indians been as hostile as were the Apaches, the probabilities +are that the settlement of Arizona by the whites would have been of far +more recent date, for in instance after instance the Americans in +Arizona were obliged to rely on the help of the peaceful Indians to +combat the rapacious Apaches.</p> + +<p>Yuma is the place where the infamous "Doc" Glanton and his gang +operated. This was long before my time, and as the province of this book +is merely to tell the story of life in the Territory as I saw it, it has +no place within these pages. It may, however, be mentioned that Glanton +was the leader of a notorious gang of freebooters who established a +ferry across the Colorado at Yuma and used it as a hold-up scheme to +trap unwary emigrants. The Yuma Indians also operated a ferry, for which +they had hired as pilot a white man, whom some asserted to have been a +deserter from the United States army. One day Glanton and his gang, +angered at the successful rivalry of the Indians, fell on them and slew +the pilot. The Glanton gang was subsequently wiped out by the Indians in +retaliation.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>When the Gila City gold rush set in Yuma was the point to which the +adventurers came to reach the new city. I have heard that as many as +three thousand gold seekers congregated at this find, but nothing is now +to be seen of the former town but a few old deserted shacks and some +Indian wickiups. Gold is still occasionally found in small quantities +along the Gila River near this point, but the immense placer deposits +have long since disappeared, although experts have been quoted as saying +that the company brave enough to explore the fastnesses of the mountains +back of the Gila at this point will probably be rewarded by finding rich +gold mines.</p> + +<p>I will not dwell on the hardships of that desert march from Yuma to +Tucson, for which the rigors of the Civil War had fortunately prepared +most of us, further than to say that it was many long, weary days before +we finally came in sight of the "Old Pueblo." In Tucson I became, soon +after our arrival, twenty years old. I was a fairly hardy youngster, +too. We camped in Tucson on a piece of ground in the center of the town +and soon after our arrival were set to work making a clean, orderly +camp-park out of the wilderness of creosote bushes and mesquite. I +remember that for some offence against the powers of the day I was then +"serving time" for a short while and, among other things, I cut shrub on +the site of Tucson's Military Plaza, with an inelegant piece of iron +chain dangling uncomfortably from my left leg. Oh, I wasn't a saint +in those days any more than I am a particularly bright candidate for +wings and a harp now! I gave my superior officers fully as much trouble +as the rest of 'em!</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep028" id="imagep028"></a> +<a href="images/imagep028.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep028.jpg" width="90%" alt="Ruins Of Old Fort Buchanan" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">RUINS OF OLD FORT BUCHANAN, DECEMBER 7, 1914<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>Tucson's Military Plaza, it may be mentioned here, was, as stated, +cleared by Company C, First United States Cavalry, and that body of +troops was the only lot of soldiery that ever camped on that spot, which +is now historic. In after years it was known as Camp Lowell, and that +name is still applied to a fort some seven miles east of Tucson.</p> + +<p>Captain Dean had not come with us to Arizona, having been taken ill in +California and invalided home. Lieutenant Vail, or, as he was entitled +to be called, Brevet-Major Vail, commanded Company C in his absence, and +he had under him as fearless a set of men as could have been found +anywhere in the country in those days. Vail himself was the highest type +of officer—stern and unbending where discipline was concerned, and +eminently courageous. Second Lieutenant Winters was a man of the same +stamp, and both men became well known in the Territory within a few +months after their arrival because of their numerous and successful +forays against marauding Indians. Vail is alive yet, or was a short time +ago.</p> + +<p>After some weeks in Tucson, which was then a typical western town +peopled by miners, assayers, surveyors, tradespeople, a stray banker or +two and, last but not least by any means, gamblers, we were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>moved to +old Camp Grant, which was situated several hundred yards downstream from +the point where the Aravaipa Creek runs into the San Pedro.</p> + +<p>Among others whom I remember as living in Tucson or near neighborhood in +1866 were:</p> + +<p class="noin" style="margin-left: 5em;"> +Henry Glassman,<br /> +Tom Yerkes,<br /> +Lord & Williams,<br /> +Pete Kitchen,<br /> +—— Tongue,<br /> +The Kelsey boys,<br /> +Sandy McClatchy,<br /> +Green Rusk,<br /> +Frank Hodge,<br /> +Alex. Levin,<br /> +Bob Crandall,<br /> +—— Wheat,<br /> +Smith Turner,<br /> +"Old" Pike.<br /></p> + +<p>Glassman lived most of the time at Tubac. Yerkes owned the Settlers +Store in Tubac. Lord and Williams owned the chief store in Tucson and +were agents for the United States Mail. Pete Kitchen was at Potrero +Ranch; but Pete, who was more feared by the Indians than any white man +in the Territory, deserves a whole chapter to himself. Tongue was a +storekeeper. Green Rusk owned a popular dance house. Hodge and Levin had +a saloon. Wheat owned a saloon and afterwards a ranch near Florence. The +remainder were mostly gamblers, good fellows, every one of them. "Old +Pike" especially was a character whose memory is now fondly cherished by +every pioneer who knew him. He could win or lose with the same perpetual +joviality, but he generally won. The principal gambling game in those +days was Mexican monte, played with forty cards. Poker was also played a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>great deal. Keno, faro and roulette were not introduced until later, +and the same may be said of pangingi, the Scandinavian game.</p> + +<p>There were several tribes of Apaches wintering at Camp Grant the winter +we went there, if I remember correctly, among them being the Tontos and +Aravaipas. All of them, however, were under the authority of one +chief—Old Eskiminzin, one of the most blood-thirsty and vindictive of +all the old Apache leaders. The Government fed these Apaches well during +the winter in return for pledges they made to keep the peace. This was +due to the altruism of some mistaken gentlemen in the councils of +authority in the East, who knew nothing of conditions in the Territory +and who wrongly believed that the word of an Apache Indian would hold +good. We, who knew the Indian, understood differently, but we were +obliged to obey orders, even though these were responsible in part for +the many Indian tragedies that followed.</p> + +<p>The Apache was a curious character. By nature a nomad, by temperament a +fighter, and from birth a hater of the white man, he saw nothing good in +the ways of civilization except that which fed him, and he took that +only as a means to an end. Often an Indian chief would solemnly swear to +keep the peace with his "white brethren" for a period of months, and the +next day go forth on a marauding expedition and kill as many of his +beloved "brethren" as he could lay his hands on. Every dead <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>white man +was a feather in some Apache's headdress, for so they regarded it.</p> + +<p>One day Chief Eskiminzin appeared with a protest from the tribes against +the quality of the rations they were receiving. It was early spring and +the protest, as we well knew, was merely his way of saying that the +Indians were no longer dependent on what the government offered but +could now hunt their own meat. Our commanding officer endeavored to +placate the old chief, who went back for a conference with his men. Then +he re-appeared, threw down his rations, the others doing the same, and +in a few minutes the entire encampment of Apaches was in the saddle.</p> + +<p>Some little time after they had gone Lieutenant Vail, suspecting +trouble, sent a man down the trail to investigate. A few miles away was +a ranch owned by a man named Israels. The scout found the ranch +devastated, with Israels, his wife and family brutally slain and all the +stock driven off. He reported to Vail, who headed an expedition of +retaliation—the first I ever set forth on. We trailed the Indians +several days, finally coming up with them and in a pitched battle +killing many of them.</p> + +<p>This was just a sample of the many similar incidents that occurred from +time to time throughout the Territory. Invariably the Military attempted +to find the raiders, and sometimes they were successful. But it seemed +impossible to teach the Apaches their lesson, and even now there are +sometimes <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>simmerings of discontent among the surviving Apaches on their +reservation. They find it difficult to believe that their day and the +day of the remainder of the savage Indian race is gone forever.</p> + +<p>It was during this stay at Fort Grant that Company C was ordered to +escort the first Southern Pacific survey from Apache Pass, which was a +government fort, to Sacaton, in the Pima Indian country. The route +abounded with hostile Apaches and was considered extremely dangerous. I +have mentioned this as the "first Southern Pacific survey," but this +does not mean that there were not before that other surveys of a similar +character, looking to the establishment of a transcontinental railroad +route through the Territory. As early as 1851 a survey was made across +Northern Arizona by Captain L. Sitgreaves, approximating nearly the +present route of the Santa Fe Railway. A year or two later Lieutenant A. +W. Whipple made a survey along the line of the 35th degree parallel. +Still later Lieutenant J. G. Parke surveyed a line nearly on that of the +Southern Pacific survey. At that time, just before the Gadsden treaty, +the territory surveyed was in the republic of Mexico. These surveys were +all made by order of the then Secretary of War, Jefferson Davis, who +aroused a storm of protest in the East against his "misguided attention +to the desolate West." But few statesmen and fewer of the outside public +in that day possessed the prophetic vision to perceive the future +greatness of what were termed the "arid <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>wastes" of Arizona and +California. This was shown by the perfect hail of protest that swept to +the White House when the terms of the Gadsden Treaty, drawn up by a man +who as minister to a great minor republic had had ample opportunities to +study at his leisure the nature of the country and the people with whom +he dealt, became known.</p> + +<p>This Southern Pacific survey party was under the superintendence of +Chief Engineer Iego—I believe that is the way he spelled his name—who +was recognized as one of the foremost men in his line in the country. +The size of our party, which included thirty surveyors and surveyors' +helpers in addition to the soldier escort, served to deter the Indians, +and we had no trouble that I remember. It is perhaps worthy of note that +the railroad, as it was afterwards built—it reached Tucson in 1880—did +not exactly follow the line of this survey, not touching at Sacaton. It +passed a few miles south of that point, near the famous Casa Grande, +where now is a considerable town.</p> + +<p>Railroad and all other surveying then was an exceedingly hazardous job, +especially in Arizona, where so many Indian massacres had already +occurred and were still to occur. In fact, any kind of a venture that +involved traveling, even for a short distance, whether it was a small +prospecting or emigrant's outfit or whether it was a long "train on +hoofs," laden with goods of the utmost value, had to be escorted by a +squad of soldiers, and often by an <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>entire company. Even thus protected, +frequent and daring raids were made by the cruel and fearless savages, +whose only dread seemed to be starvation and the on-coming of the white +man, and who would go to any lengths to get food.</p> + +<p>Looking back in the light of present day reasoning, I am bound to say +that it would be wrong to blame the Apaches for something their savage +and untutored natures could not help. Before the "paleface" came to the +Territory the Indian was lord of all he surveyed, from the peaks of the +mountains down to the distant line of the silvery horizon. He was +monarch of the desert and could roam over his demesne without +interference save from hostile tribes; and into his very being there was +born naturally a spirit of freedom which the white man with all his +weapons could never kill. He knew the best hunting grounds, he knew +where grew excellent fodder for his horses, he knew where water ran the +year around, and in the rainy season he knew where the waterholes were +to be found. In his wild life there was only the religion of living, and +the divinity of Freedom.</p> + +<p>When the white man came he, too, found the fertile places, the running +water and the hunting grounds, and he confiscated them in the name of a +higher civilization of which the savage knew nothing and desired to know +less. Could the Indian then be blamed for his overwhelming hatred of the +white man? His was the inferior, the barbaric race, to be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>sure, but +could he be blamed for not believing so? His was a fight against +civilization, true, and it was a losing fight as all such are bound to +be, but the Indian did not know what civilization was except that it +meant that he was to be robbed of his hunting grounds and stripped of +his heritage of freedom. Therefore he fought tirelessly, savagely, +demoniacally, the inroads of the white man into his territory. All that +he knew, all that he wished to understand, was that he had been free and +happy before the white man had come with his thunder-weapons, his +fire-water and his mad, mad passion for yellow gold. The Indian could +not understand or admit that the White was the superior, all-conquering +race, and, not understanding, he became hostile and a battling demon.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>So intense was the hatred of the white man among the Apaches +of the period of which I speak that it was their custom to +cut off the noses of any one of their women caught in illegal +intercourse with a white man. This done, she was driven from +her tribe, declared an outcast from her people, and +frequently starved to death. I can remember many instances of +this exact kind.</p></div> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><a name="Rough" id="Rough"></a> +<br /> + +<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +<br /> +<h2>ROUGH AND TUMBLE ON LAND AND SEA</h2> +<br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>'Twas youth, my friend, and joyfulness besides,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>That made me breast the treachery of Neptune's fickle tides.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>When Spring came around in the year 1867 we were moved to Tubac, where +we were joined by K Company of my regiment and C Company of the +Thirty-Second Infantry. Tubac, considered by some to be the oldest town +in Arizona, before the consummation of the Gadsden Treaty was a military +post at which the republic of Mexico regularly kept a small garrison. It +was situated on the Santa Cruz River, which at this point generally had +considerable water in it. This was probably the reason for the +establishment of the town, for water has always been the controlling +factor in a settlement's progress in Arizona. The river is dry at Tubac +now, however, except in unusually rainy seasons, irrigation and cattle +having robbed the stream of its former volume.</p> + +<p>At the time we were quartered there Tubac was a place of no small +importance, and after Tucson and Prescott were discounted it was +probably the largest settlement in the Territory. Patagonia has now +taken the position formerly occupied by the old adobe town as center of +the rich mining zone of Southern Arizona, and the glories of Tubac (if +they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>can be given that name) are, like the glories of Tombstone, gone. +Unlike those of Tombstone, however, they are probably gone forever. +Tombstone may yet rise from the ashes of her splendid past to a future +as one of the important towns of the Southwest, if the stories of untold +riches near by her are to be believed.</p> + +<p>A little to the east of Tubac and separating that town from Patagonia is +Mount Wrightson, one of the highest mountains in Arizona. Nicknamed "Old +Baldy" after its famous namesake in California, this mammoth pile of +rock and copper was in the old days a landmark for travelers, visible +sometimes for days ahead on the wagon trails. It presaged near arrival +in Tucson, for in a direct line Old Baldy is probably not further than +forty miles from the Old Pueblo.</p> + +<p>We camped at Tubac during the summer and part of the winter of 1867 and +I remember that while we were there I cooked a reception banquet to +Colonel Richard C. McCormick, who was then and until 1869 Governor of +the Territory of Arizona. I forget his business in Tubac, but it was +either an electioneering trip or one of inspection after his appointment +to the office of Governor in 1866.</p> + +<p>In the early part of 1868 we moved to Fort Buchanan, which before the +war had been a military post of considerable importance. It received its +name from the President before Lincoln and was garrisoned by +Confederates during the Civil War. We <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>re-built the fort and re-named it +Fort Crittenden, in honor of General Thomas L. Crittenden, a son of the +Hon. John J. Crittenden of Kentucky, who was then in command of the +military district embracing that portion of the Territory south of the +Gila River. Crittenden was beautifully situated on the Sonoita, about +ten miles from where I now live and in the midst of some of the most +marvelously beautiful scenery to be found on the American continent. +Fort Crittenden is no longer occupied and has not been for some time; +but a short distance toward Benson is Fort Huachuaca, where at present a +garrison of the Ninth Cavalry is quartered.</p> + +<p>During part of 1868 I carried mail from where Calabasas is now—it was +then Fort Mason—to Fort Crittenden, a proceeding emphatically not as +simple as it may sound. My way lay over a mountainous part of what is +now Santa Cruz county, a district which at that time, on account of the +excellent fodder and water, abounded with hostile Indians.</p> + +<p>On one occasion that I well remember I had reached the waterhole over +which is now the first railroad bridge north of Patagonia, about a half +mile from the present town, and had stopped there to water my horse. +While the animal was drinking I struck a match to light my pipe—and +instantly I ducked. A bullet whistled over my head, near enough to give +me a strong premonition that a couple of inches closer would have meant +my end. I seized the bridle of my horse, leaped on his back, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>bent low +over the saddle and rode for it. I escaped, but it is positive in my +mind today that if those Apaches had been better accustomed to the use +of the white man's weapons I would not now be alive to tell the story.</p> + +<p>I was a great gambler, even in those days. It was the fashion, then, to +gamble. Everybody except the priests and parsons gambled, and there was +a scarcity of priests and parsons in the sixties. Men would gamble their +dust, and when that was gone they would gamble their worldly +possessions, and when those had vanished they would gamble their +clothes, and if they lost their clothes there were instances where some +men even went so far as to gamble their wives! And every one of us, each +day, gambled his life, so you see the whole life in the Territory in the +early days was one continuous gamble. Nobody save gamblers came out +there, because nobody but gamblers would take the chance.</p> + +<p>As I have stated, I followed the natural trend. I had a name, even in +those days, of being one of the most spirited gamblers in the regiment, +and that meant the countryside; and I confess it today without shame, +although it is some time now since I raised an ante. I remember one +occasion when my talents for games of chance turned out rather +peculiarly. We had gone to Calabasas to get a load of wheat from a store +owned by a man named Richardson, who had been a Colonel in the volunteer +service. Richardson had as manager of the store <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>a fellow named Long, +who was well known for his passion for gambling. After we had given our +order we sought about for some diversion to make the time pass, and Long +caught sight of the goatskin chaperejos I was wearing. He stared at them +enviously for a minute and then proposed to buy them.</p> + +<p>"They're not for sale," said I, "but if you like I'll play you for 'em."</p> + +<p>"Done!" said Long, and put up sixteen dollars against the chaps.</p> + +<p>Now, Long was a game sport, but that didn't make him lucky. I won his +sixteen dollars and then he bet me some whiskey against the lot, and +again I won. By the time I had beat him five or six times, had won a +good half of the store's contents, and was proposing to play him for his +share in the store itself, he cried quits. We loaded our plunder on the +wagon. Near Bloxton, or where Bloxton now is, four miles west of +Patagonia, we managed to upset the wagon, and half the whiskey and wheat +never was retrieved. We had the wherewithal to "fix things" with the +officers, however, and went unreproved, even making a tidy profit +selling what stuff we had left to the soldiers.</p> + +<p>At that time the company maintained gardens on a part of what afterwards +was the Sanford Rancho, and at one time during 1868 I was gardening +there with three others. The gardens were on a ranch owned by William +Morgan, a discharged sergeant of our company. Morgan had one Mexican +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>working for him and there were four of us from the Fort stationed there +to cultivate the gardens and keep him company—more for the latter +reason than the first, I believe. We took turn and turn about of one +month at the Fort and one month at the gardens, which were about +fourteen miles from the Fort.</p> + +<p>One of us was Private White, of Company K. He was a mighty fine young +fellow, and we all liked him. Early one morning the five of us were +eating breakfast in the cabin, an illustration of which is given, and +White went outside for something. Soon afterward we heard several +reports, but, figuring that White had shot at some animal or other, we +did not even get up from our meal. Finally came another shot, and then +another, and Morgan got up and peered from the door. He gave a cry.</p> + +<p>"Apaches!" he shouted. "They're all around! Poor White——"</p> + +<p>It was nip-and-tuck then. For hours we kept up a steady fire at the +Indians, who circled the house with blood-curdling whoops. We killed a +number of them before they finally took themselves off. Then we went +forth to look for White. We found our comrade lying on his back a short +distance away, his eyes staring unseeingly to the sky. He was dead. We +carried him to the house and discussed the situation.</p> + +<p>"They'll come back," said Morgan, with conviction.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>"Then it's up to one of us to ride to the Fort," I said.</p> + +<p>But Morgan shook his head.</p> + +<p>"There isn't a horse anywhere near," he said.</p> + +<p>We had an old army mule working on the gardens and I bethought myself of +him.</p> + +<p>"There's the mule," I suggested.</p> + +<p>My companions were silent. That mule was the slowest creature in +Arizona, I firmly believed. It was as much as he could do to walk, let +alone gallop.</p> + +<p>"Somebody's got to go, or we'll all be killed," I said. "Let's draw +lots."</p> + +<p>They agreed and we found five straws, one of them shorter than the rest. +These we drew, and the short one fell to me.</p> + +<p>I look back on that desperate ride now with feelings akin to horror. +Surrounded with murderous savages, with only a decrepit mule to ride and +fourteen miles to go, it seemed impossible that I could get through +safely. My companions said good-bye to me as though I were a scaffold +victim about to be executed. But get through I did—how I do not +know—and the chillingly weird war-calls of the Indians howling at me +from the hills as I rode return to my ears even now with extraordinary +vividness.</p> + +<p>And, as Morgan had prophesied, the Apaches did "come back." It was a +month later, and I had been transferred back to the Fort, when a nephew +of Colonel Dunkelberger and William J. Osborn of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>Tucson were riding +near Morgan's ranch. Apaches ambushed them, slew the Colonel's nephew, +whose name has slipped my memory, and wounded Osborn. The latter, who +was a person of considerable importance in the Territory, escaped to +Morgan's ranch. An expedition of retaliation was immediately organized +at the Fort and the soldiers pursued the assassins into Mexico, finally +coming up with them and killing a number. I did not accompany the troops +on this occasion, having been detailed to the Santa Rita range to bring +in lumber to be used in building houses.</p> + +<p>I returned from the Santa Ritas in July and found an order had been +received at the Fort from the War Department that all men whose times +had expired or were shortly to expire should be congregated in Tucson +and from there marched to California for their discharge. A few weeks +later I went to the Old Pueblo and, together with several hundred others +from all parts of the Territory, was mustered out and started on the +return march to Wilmington where we arrived about October 1. On the +twelfth of October I was discharged.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep044" id="imagep044"></a> +<a href="images/imagep044.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep044.jpg" width="90%" alt="Cady's House on the Sonoita" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">CADY'S HOUSE ON THE SONOITA, NEAR BLOXTON, 1914. BUILT IN +1868<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>After working as cook for a short time for a company that was +constructing a railroad from Wilmington to Los Angeles, I moved to the +latter place and obtained employment in the Old Bella Union Hotel as +chef. John King was the proprietor of the Bella Union. Until Christmas +eve I stayed there, and then Sergeant John Curtis, of my company, who +had been working as a saddler for Banning, a capitalist in +Wilmington, came back to the kitchen and said:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>"John, old sport, let's go to 'Frisco."</p> + +<p>"I haven't," I told him, "enough change to set 'em up across the street, +let alone go to 'Frisco."</p> + +<p>For answer Curtis pulled out a wallet, drew therefrom a roll of bills +that amounted to about $1,000, divided the pile into two halves, laid +them on the table and indicated them with his forefinger.</p> + +<p>"John," he offered, "if you'll come with me you can put one of those +piles in your pocket. What do you say?"</p> + +<p>Inasmuch as I had had previously little opportunity to really explore +San Francisco, the idea appealed to me and we shook hands on the +bargain. Christmas morning, fine, cloudless and warm, found us seated on +the San Jose stage. San Jose then was nearly as large a place as Tucson +is now—about twenty odd thousand, if I remember rightly. The stage +route carried us through the mission country now so widely exploited by +the railroads. Santa Barbara, San Luis Obispo and Monterey were all +towns on the way, Monterey being probably the largest. The country was +very thinly occupied, chiefly by Spanish haciendas that had been in the +country long before gold was discovered. The few and powerful owners of +these estates controlled practically the entire beautiful State of +California prior to '49, and at the time I write of still retained <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>a +goodly portion of it. They grew rich and powerful, for their lands were +either taken by right of conquest or by grants from the original Mexican +government, and they paid no wages to their peons. These Spaniards, with +the priests, however, are to be credited with whatever progress +civilization made in the early days of California. They built the first +passable roads, they completed rough surveys and they first discovered +the wonderful fertility of the California soils. The towns they built +were built solidly, with an eye to the future ravages of earthquakes and +of Time, which is something the modern builder often does not do. There +are in many of their pueblos old houses built by the Spaniards in the +middle part of the eighteenth century which are still used and occupied.</p> + +<p>We arrived in San Francisco a few days after our departure from Los +Angeles, and before long the city had done to us what she still does to +so many—had broken us on her fickle wheel of fortune. It wasn't many +days before we found ourselves, our "good time" a thing of the past, "up +against it."</p> + +<p>"John," said Curtis, finally, "we're broke. We can't get no work. +What'll we do?"</p> + +<p>I thought a minute and then suggested the only alternative I could think +of. "Let's get a blanket," I offered.</p> + +<p>"Getting a blanket" was the phrase commonly in use when men meant to say +that they intended to enlist. Curtis met the idea with instant approval, +if <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>not with acclamation, and, suiting the action to the words, we +obtained a hack and drove to the Presidio, where we underwent the +examination for artillerymen. Curtis passed easily and was accepted, but +I, owing to a wound in my ankle received during the war, was refused.</p> + +<p>Curtis obtained the customary three days' leave before joining his +company and for that brief space we roamed about the city, finishing our +"good time" with such money as Curtis had been able to raise by pawning +and selling his belongings. After the three days were over we parted, +Curtis to join his regiment; and since then I have neither seen nor +heard of him. If he still chances to be living, my best wishes go out to +him in his old age.</p> + +<p>For some time I hung around San Francisco trying to obtain employment, +without any luck. I was not then as skillful a gambler as I became in +after years, and, in any case, I had no money with which to gamble. It +was, I found, one thing to sit down to a monte deck at a table +surrounded with people you knew, where your credit was good, and another +to stake your money on a painted wheel in a great hall where nobody +cared whether you won or lost.</p> + +<p>Trying to make my little stake last as long as possible, I roomed in a +cheap hotel—the old What Cheer rooming house, and ate but one "two-bit" +meal a day. I was constantly on the lookout for work of some kind, but +had no luck until one day as I was passing up Kearney street I saw a +sign in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>one of the store windows calling for volunteers for the +Sloop-o'-War Jamestown. After reading the notice a couple of times I +decided to enlist, did so, was sent to Mare Island Navy Yard and from +there boarded the Jamestown.</p> + +<p>It was on that vessel that I performed an action that I have not since +regretted, however reprehensible it may seem in the light of present-day +ethics. Smallpox broke out on board and I, fearful of contracting the +dread disease, planned to desert. This would probably not have been +possible today, when the quarantine regulations are so strict, but in +those days port authorities were seldom on the alert to prevent vessels +with diseases anchoring with other shipping, especially in Mexico, in +the waters of which country we were cruising.</p> + +<p>When we reached Mazatlan I went ashore in the ordinary course of my +duties as ward-room steward to do some marketing and take the officers' +laundry to be washed. Instead of bringing the marketing back to the ship +I sent it, together with a note telling where the laundry would be +found, and saying good-bye forever to my shipmates. The note written and +dispatched, I quietly "vamoosed," or, as I believe it is popularly +termed in the navy now, I "went over the hill."</p> + +<p>My primary excuse for this action was, of course, the outbreak of +smallpox, which at that time and in fact until very recently, was as +greatly dreaded as bubonic plague is now, and probably more. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>Vaccination, whatever may be its value in the prevention of the +disease, had not been discovered in the sense that it is now understood +and was not known at all except in the centers of medical practice in +the East.</p> + +<p>Smallpox then was a mysterious disease, and certainly a plague. Whole +populations had been wiped out by it, doctors had announced that there +was practically no cure for it and that its contraction meant almost +certain death, and I may thus be excused for my fear of the sickness. I +venture to state, moreover, that if all the men aboard the Jamestown had +had the same opportunity that I was given to desert, they would have +done so in a body.</p> + +<p>My second excuse, reader, if one is necessary, is that in the days of +the Jamestown and her sister ships, navy life was very different from +the navy life of today, when I understand generous paymasters are even +giving the jackies ice-cream with their meals. You may be entirely sure +that we got nothing of the kind. Our food was bad, our quarters were +worse, and the discipline was unbearably severe.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><a name="Through" id="Through"></a> +<br /> + +<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +<br /> +<h2>THROUGH MEXICO AND BACK TO ARIZONA</h2> +<br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Know thou the spell of the desert land,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Where Life and Love are free?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Know thou the lure the sky and sand</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Hath for the man in me?</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>When I deserted from the sloop-o'-war Jamestown it was with the no +uncertain knowledge that it was distinctly to my best advantage to clear +out of the city of Mazatlan just as rapidly as I could, for the ships of +the free and (presumably) enlightened Republic had not yet swerved +altogether from the customs of the King's Navee, one of which said +customs was to hang deserters at the yard-arm. Sometimes they shot them, +but I do not remember that the gentlemen most concerned had any choice +in the matter. At any rate, I know that it was with a distinct feeling +of relief that I covered the last few yards that brought me out of the +city of Mazatlan and into the open country. In theory, of course, the +captain of the sloop-o'-war Jamestown could not have sent a squad of men +after me with instructions to bring me back off foreign soil dead or +alive, but in practice that is just what he would have done. Theory and +practice have a habit of differing, especially in the actions of an +irate skipper who sees one of his best ward-room stewards vanishing from +his jurisdiction.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>Life now opened before me with such a vista of possibilities that I felt +my breath taken away. Here was I, a youth twenty-two years old, husky +and sound physically, free in a foreign country which I felt an instant +liking for, and no longer beholden to the Stars and Stripes for which I +was quite ready to fight but not to serve in durance vile on a +plague-ship. My spirit bounded at the thought of the liberty that was +mine, and I struck northward out of Mazatlan with a light step and a +lighter heart. At the edge of the city I paused awhile on a bluff to +gaze for the last time on the Bay, on the waters of which rode quietly +at anchor the vessel I had a few hours before quit so unceremoniously. +There was no regret in my heart as I stood there and looked. I had no +particular love for Mexico, but then I had no particular love for the +sea, either, and a good deal less for the ships that sailed the sea. So +I turned my back very definitely on that part of my life and set my face +toward the north, where, had I known it, I was to find my destiny +beneath the cloudless turquoise skies of Arizona.</p> + +<p>When I left Mazatlan it was with the intention of walking as far as I +could before stopping, or until the weight of the small bundle +containing my worldly possessions tired my shoulders. But it was not to +be so. Only two miles out of the city I came upon a ranch owned by two +Americans, the sight of whom was very welcome to me just then. I had no +idea that I should find any American ranchers in the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>near neighborhood, +and considered myself in luck. I found that one of the American's names +was Colonel Elliot and I asked him for work. Elliot sized me up, invited +me in to rest up, and on talking with him I found him to be an +exceedingly congenial soul. He was an old Confederate colonel—was +Elliot, but although we had served on opposite sides of the sad war of a +few years back, the common bond of nationality that is always strongest +beyond the confines of one's own land prevented us from feeling any +aloofness toward each other on this account. To me Colonel Elliot was an +American, and a mighty decent specimen of an American at that—a friend +in need. And to Colonel Elliot also I was an American, and one needing +assistance. We seldom spoke of our political differences, partly because +our lives speedily became too full and intimate to admit of the petty +exchange of divergent views, and partly because I had been a boy during +the Civil War and my youthful brain had not been sufficiently mature to +assimilate the manifold prejudices, likes, dislikes and opposing +theories that were the heritage of nearly all those who lived during +that bloody four years' war.</p> + +<p>I have said that Colonel Elliot was a friend in need. There is an apt +saying that a "friend in need is a friend indeed," and such was Colonel +Elliot as I soon found. For I had not been a week at the ranch when I +was struck down with smallpox, and throughout that dangerous sickness, +lasting several <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>weeks, the old Colonel, careless of contagion, nursed +me like a woman, finally bringing me back to a point where I once again +had full possession of all my youthful health and vigor.</p> + +<p>I do not just now recall the length of time I worked for Elliot and his +partner, but the stay, if not long, was most decidedly pleasant. I grew +to speak Spanish fluently, haunted the town of Mazatlan (from which the +Jamestown had long since departed), and made as good use generally of my +temporary employment as was possible. I tried hard to master the patois +of the peon as well as the flowery and eloquent language of the +aristocracy, for I knew well that should I at any time seek employment +as overseer at a rancho either in Mexico or Arizona, a knowledge of the +former would be indispensable, while a knowledge of the latter was at +all times useful in Mexico, especially in the cities, where the +possession of the cultured dialect marked one for special favors and +secured better attention at the stores.</p> + +<p>The Mexicans I grew to understand and like more and more the longer I +knew them. I found the average Mexican gentleman a model of politeness, +a Beau Brummel in dress and an artist in the use of the flowery terms +with which his splendid language abounds. The peons also I came to know +and understand. I found them a simple-minded, uncomplaining class, +willingly accepting the burdens which were laid on them by their +masters, the rich landlords; and living, loving and playing very much as +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>children. They were good-hearted—these Mexicans, and hospitable to the +last degree. This, indeed, is a characteristic as truly of the Mexican +of today as of the period of which I speak. They would, if needs be, +share their last crust with you even if you were an utter stranger, and +many the time some lowly peon host of mine would insist on my occupying +his rude bed whilst he and his family slept on the roof! Such +warm-hearted simplicity is very agreeable, and it was a vast change from +the world of the Americans, especially of the West, where the watchword +was: "Every man for himsel', and the de'il tak' the hindmost." It may be +remarked here that the de'il often took the foremost, too!</p> + +<p>When I left the hospitable shelter of Colonel Elliot's home I moved to +Rosario, Sinaloa, where was situated the famous Tajo mine which has made +the fortunes of the Bradbury family. It was owned then by Don Luis +Bradbury, senior, the same Bradbury whose son is now such a prominent +figure in the social and commercial life of San Francisco and Los +Angeles. I asked for work at the Bradbury mine, obtained it, and started +in shoveling refuse like any other common laborer at the munificent wage +of ten dollars per week, which was a little less than ten dollars more +than the Mexican peons laboring at the same work obtained. I had not +been working there long, however, when some suggestions I made to the +engineer obtained me recognition and promotion, and at the end of a +year, when I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>quit, I was earning $150 per month, or nearly four times +what my wage had been when I started.</p> + +<p>And then—and then, I believe it was the spell of the Arizona plains +that gripped the strings of my soul again and caused them to play a +different tune.... Or was it the prospect of an exciting and more or +less lawless life on the frontier that beckoned with enticing lure? I do +not know. But I grew to think more and more of Arizona, the Territory in +which I had reached my majority and had found my manhood; and more and +more I discovered myself longing to be back shaking hands with my old +friends and companions, and shaking, too, dice with Life itself. So one +day saw me once more on my way to the wild and free Territory, although +this time my road did not lie wholly across a burning and uninhabited +desert.</p> + +<p>It is a hard enough proposition now to get to the United States from +Mazatlan, or any other point in Mexico, when the Sud Pacifico and other +railroads are shattered in a dozen places and their schedules, those +that have them, are dependent on the magnanimity of the various tribes +of bandits that infest the routes; but at the time I write of it was +harder.</p> + +<p>To strike north overland was possible, though not to be advised, for +brigands infested the cedar forests of Sinaloa and southern Sonora; and +savage Yaquis, quite as much to be feared as the Apaches of further +north, ravaged the desert and mountain country. I solved the difficulty +finally by going to Mazatlan <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>and shipping from that port as a deck-hand +on a Dutch brigantine, which I remember because of its exceptionally +vile quarters and the particularly dirty weather we ran up against on +our passage up the Gulf. The Gulf of California, especially the mouth of +it, has always had an evil reputation among mariners, and with justness, +but I firmly believe the elements out-did themselves in ferocity on the +trip I refer to.</p> + +<p>Guaymas reached, my troubles were not over, for there was still the long +Sonora desert to be crossed before the haven of Hermosillo could be +reached. At last I made arrangements with a freighting outfit and went +along with them. I had had a little money when I started, but both +Mazatlan and Guaymas happened to be chiefly filled with cantinas and +gambling-hells, and as I was not averse to frequenting either of these +places of first resort to the lonely wanderer, my money-bag was +considerably depleted when at last I arrived in the beautiful capital of +Sonora. I was, in fact, if a few odd dollars are excepted, broke, and +work was a prime necessity. Fortunately, jobs were at that time not very +hard to find.</p> + +<p>There was at that time in Hermosillo a house named the Casa Marian Para, +kept by one who styled himself William Taft. The Casa Marian Para will +probably be remembered in Hermosillo by old-timers now—in fact, I have +my doubts that it is not still standing. It was the chief stopping-house +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>in Sonora at that time. I obtained employment from Taft as a cook, but +stayed with it only long enough to procure myself a "grub-stake," after +which I "hit the grit" for Tucson, crossing the border on the Nogales +trail a few days later. I arrived in Tucson in the latter part of the +year 1870, and obtained work cooking for Charlie Brown and his family.</p> + +<p>It was while I was employed as chef in the Brown household that I +made—and lost, of course, a fortune. No, it wasn't a very big fortune, +but it was a fortune certainly very curiously and originally made. I +made it by selling ham sandwiches!</p> + +<p>Charlie Brown owned a saloon not far from the Old Church Plaza. It was +called Congress Hall, had been completed in 1868 and was one of the most +popular places in town. Charlie was fast becoming a plutocrat. One night +in the saloon I happened to hear a man come in and complain because +there wasn't a restaurant in town that would serve him a light snack at +that time of night except at outrageous prices.</p> + +<p>"That's right," said another man near me, "if somebody would only have +the sense to start a lunch-counter here the way they have them in the +East he'd make all kinds of money."</p> + +<p>The words suggested a scheme to me. The next day I saw Brown and got his +permission to serve a light lunch of sandwiches and coffee in the saloon +after I had finished my work at the house. Just at that time there was a +big crowd in the town, the first <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>cattle having arrived in charge of a +hungry lot of Texan cowpunchers, and everyone was making money. I set up +my little lunch counter, charged seventy-five cents, or "six-bits" in +the language of the West, for a lunch consisting of a cup of coffee and +a sandwich, and speedily had all the customers I could handle. For forty +consecutive nights I made a clear profit of over fifty dollars each +night. Those sandwiches were a mint. And they were worth what I charged +for them, too, for bacon, ham, coffee and the other things were 'way up, +the three mentioned being fifty or sixty cents a pound for a very +indifferent quality.</p> + +<p>Sometimes I had a long line waiting to buy lunches, and all the time I +ran that lunch stand I never had one "kick" at the prices or the grub +offered. Those cowboys were well supplied with money, and they were more +than willing to spend it. Charlie Brown was making his fortune fast.</p> + +<p>After I quit Brown's employ, John McGee—the same man who now is +secretary of the Arizona Pioneers' Historical Society and a well-known +resident of Tucson—hired myself and another man to do assessment work +on the old Salero mine, which had been operated before the war. Our +conveyance was an old ambulance owned by Lord & Williams, who, as I have +said, kept the only store and the post office in Tucson. The outfit was +driven by "Old Bill" Sniffen, who will doubtless be remembered by many +Arizona pioneers. We picked up on the way "Old <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>Man" Benedict, another +familiar character, who kept the stage station and ranch at Sahuarita, +where the Twin Buttes Railroad now has a station and branch to some +mines, and where a smelter is located. We were paid ten dollars per day +for our work and returned safely to Tucson.</p> + +<p>I spoke of Lord & Williams' store just now. When in the city of Tucson +recently I saw that Mr. Corbett has his tin shop where the old store and +post office was once. I recognized only two other buildings as having +existed in pioneer days, although there may be more. One was the old +church of San Augustine and the other was part of the Orndorff Hotel, +where Levin had his saloon. There were more saloons than anything else +in Tucson in the old days, and the pueblo richly earned its reputation, +spread broadcast all over the world, as being one of the "toughest" +places on the American frontier.</p> + +<p>Tucson was on the boom just then. Besides the first shipment of cattle, +and the influx of cowboys from Texas previously mentioned, the +Territorial capital had just been moved to Tucson from Prescott. It was +afterwards moved back again to Prescott, and subsequently to the new +town of Phoenix; but more of that later.</p> + +<p>After successfully concluding the assessment work and returning to +Tucson to be paid off by McGee I decided to move again, and this time +chose Wickenburg, a little place between Phoenix and Prescott, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>and one +of the pioneer towns of the Territory. West of Wickenburg on the +Colorado River was another settlement named Ehrenberg, after a man who +deserves a paragraph to himself.</p> + +<p>Herman Ehrenberg was a civil engineer and scientist of exceptional +talents who engaged in mining in the early days of Arizona following the +occupation of the Territory by the Americans. He was of German birth +and, coming at an early age to the United States, made his way to New +Orleans, where he enlisted in the New Orleans Grays when war broke out +between Mexico and Texas. After serving in the battles of Goliad and +Fanning's Defeat he returned to Germany and wrote and lectured for some +time on Texas and its resources. Soon after the publication of his book +on Texas he returned to the United States and at St. Louis, in 1840, he +joined a party crossing to Oregon. From that Territory he went to the +Sandwich Islands and for some years wandered among the islands of the +Polynesian Archipelago, returning to California in time to join General +Fremont in the latter's attempt to free California from Mexican rule. +After the Gadsden Purchase he moved to Arizona, where, after years of +occupation in mining and other industries, he was killed by a Digger +Indian at Dos Palmas in Southern California. The town of Ehrenberg was +named after him.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep060" id="imagep060"></a> +<a href="images/imagep060.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep060.jpg" width="90%" alt="Fort Crittenden Ruins, 1914" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">FORT CRITTENDEN RUINS, 1914. QUARTERS OF <span class="smcap">Cos. K</span> AND +<span class="smcap">C, 1st U. S.</span> CAVALRY IN 1868<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<p>FOOTNOTE:</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> This information relative to Ehrenberg is taken largely +from The History of Arizona; De Long, 1905.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><a name="Stage" id="Stage"></a> +<br /> + +<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +<br /> +<h2>STAGE DRIVER'S LUCK</h2> +<br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>God, men call Destiny: Hear thee my prayer!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Grant that life's secret for e'er shall be kept.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Wiser than mine is thy will; I dare</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Not dust where thy broom hath swept.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10 smcap">—Woon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I have said that Wickenburg was a small place half-way between Phoenix +and Prescott, but that is not quite right. Wickenburg was situated +between Prescott and the valley of the Salt River, in the fertile midst +of which the foundation stones of the future capital of Arizona had yet +to be laid. To be sure, there were a few shacks on the site, and a few +ranchers in the valley, but the city of Phoenix had yet to blossom forth +from the wilderness. I shall find occasion later to speak of the birth +of Phoenix, however.</p> + +<p>When I arrived in Wickenburg from Tucson—and the journey was no mean +affair, involving, as it did, a ride over desert and mountains, both of +which were crowded with hostile Apaches—I went to work as stage driver +for the company that operated stages out of Wickenburg to Ehrenberg, +Prescott and other places, including Florence which was just then +beginning to be a town.</p> + +<p>Stage driving in Arizona in the pioneer days was a dangerous, difficult, +and consequently high-priced <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>job. The Indians were responsible for this +in the main, although white highwaymen became somewhat numerous later +on. Sometimes there would be a raid, the driver would be killed, and the +stage would not depart again for some days, the company being unable to +find a man to take the reins. The stages were large and unwieldy, but +strongly built. They had to be big enough to hold off raiders should +they attack. Every stage usually carried, besides the driver, two +company men who went heavily armed and belted around with numerous +cartridges. One sat beside the driver on the box-seat. In the case of +the longer stage trips two or three men guarded the mail. Very few women +traveled in those days—in fact, there were not many white women in the +Territory and those who did travel usually carried some masculine +protector with them. A man had to be a good driver to drive a stage, +too, for the heavy brakes were not easily manipulated and there were +some very bad stretches of road.</p> + +<p>Apropos of what I have just said about stage drivers being slain, and +the difficulty sometimes experienced in getting men to take their +places, I remember that on certain occasions I would take the place of +the mail driver from Tucson to Apache Pass, north of where Douglas now +is—the said mail driver having been killed—get fifty dollars for the +trip and blow it all in before I started for fear I might not otherwise +get a chance to spend it.</p> + +<p>The stage I drove for this Wickenburg company <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>was one that ran regular +trips out of Wickenburg. Several trips passed without much occurring +worthy of note; and then on one trip I fell off the box, injuring my +ankle. When I arrived back in Wickenburg I was told by Manager Pierson +of the company that I would be relieved from driving the stage because +my foot was not strong enough to work the heavy brakes, and would be +given instead the buckboard to drive to Florence and back on post-office +business.</p> + +<p>The next trip the stage made out of Wickenburg, therefore, I remained +behind. A few miles from town the stage was held up by an overwhelming +force of Apaches, the driver and all save two of the passengers +massacred, and the contents looted. A woman named Moll Shepherd, going +back East with a large sum of money in her possession, and a man named +Kruger, escaped the Indians, hid in the hills and were the only two who +survived to tell the story of what has gone down into history as the +famous "Wickenburg Stage Massacre." I shudder now to think how nearly I +might have been on the box on that fatal trip.</p> + +<p>I was not entirely to escape the Apaches, however. On the first return +trip from Florence to Wickenburg with the buckboard, while I was +congratulating myself and thanking my lucky stars for the accident to my +ankle, Apaches "jumped" the buckboard and gave me and my one passenger, +Charlie Block of Wickenburg, a severe tussle for it. We beat them off in +the end, owing to superior marksmanship, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>arrived in Wickenburg +unhurt. Block was part owner of the Barnett and Block store in +Wickenburg and was a well-known man in that section.</p> + +<p>After this incident I determined to quit driving stages and buckboards +and, casting about for some new line of endeavor, went for the first +time into the restaurant business for myself. The town needed an +establishment of the kind I put up, and as I had always been a good cook +I cleaned up handsomely, especially as it was while I was running the +restaurant that Miner started his notorious stampede, when thousands of +gold-mad men followed a will-o'-the-wisp trail to fabulously rich +diggings which turned out to be entirely mythical.</p> + +<p>It was astonishing how little was required in those days to start a +stampede. A stranger might come in town with a "poke" of gold dust. He +would naturally be asked where he had made the strike. As a matter of +fact, he probably had washed a dozen different streams to get the +poke-full, but under the influence of liquor he might reply: "Oh, over +on the San Carlos," or the San Pedro, or some other stream. It did not +require that he should state how rich the streak was, or whether it had +panned out. All that was necessary to start a mad rush in the direction +he had designated was the sight of his gold and the magic word "streak." +Many were the trails that led to death or bitter disappointment, in +Arizona's early days.</p> + +<p>Most of the old prospectors did not see the results <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>of their own +"strikes" nor share in the profits from them after their first "poke" +had been obtained. There was old John Waring, for instance, who found +gold on a tributary of the Colorado and blew into Arizona City, got +drunk and told of his find:</p> + +<p>"Gold—Gold.... Lots 'v it!" he informed them, drunkenly, incoherently, +and woke up the next morning to find that half the town had disappeared +in the direction of his claim. He rushed to the registry office to +register his claim, which he had foolishly forgotten to do the night +before. He found it already registered. Some unscrupulous rascal had +filched his secret, even to the exact location of his claim, from the +aged miner and had got ahead of him in registering it. No claim is +really legal until it is registered, although in the mining camps of the +old days it was a formality often dispensed with, since claim jumpers +met a prompt and drastic punishment.</p> + +<p>In many other instances the big mining men gobbled up the smaller ones, +especially at a later period, when most of the big mines were grouped +under a few large managements, with consequent great advantage over +their smaller competitors.</p> + +<p>Indeed, there is comparatively little incentive now for a prospector to +set out in Arizona, because if he chances to stumble on a really rich +prospect, and attempts to work it himself, he is likely to be so +browbeaten that he is finally forced to sell out to some large concern. +There are only a few smelters <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>in or near the State and these are +controlled by large mining companies. Very well; we will suppose a +hypothetical case:</p> + +<p>A, being a prospector, finds a copper mine. He says to himself: "Here's +a good property; it ought to make me rich. I won't sell it, I'll hold on +to it and work it myself."</p> + +<p>So far, so good.</p> + +<p>A starts in to work his mine. He digs therefrom considerable rich ore. +And now a problem presents itself.</p> + +<p>He has no concentrator, no smelter of his own. He cannot afford to build +one; therefore it is perfectly obvious that he cannot crush his own ore. +He must, then, send it elsewhere to be smelted, and to do this must sell +his ore to the smelter.</p> + +<p>In the meantime a certain big mining company has investigated A's find +and has seen that it is rich. The company desires the property, as it +desires all other rich properties. It offers to buy the mine for a sum +far below its actual value. Naturally, the finder refuses.</p> + +<p>But he must smelt his ore. And to smelt it he finds he is compelled to +sell it to a smelter that is controlled by the mining company whose +offer he has refused. He sends his ore to the smelter. Back comes the +quotation for his product, at a price ridiculously low. "That's what +we'll give you," says the company, through its proxy the smelter, "take +it or leave it," or words to that effect.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>Now, what can A do? Nothing at all. He must either sell his ore at an +actual loss or sell his mine to the company. Naturally, he does the +latter, and at a figure he finds considerably lower than the first +offer. The large concern has him where it wanted him and it snuffs out +his dreams of wealth and prosperity effectively.</p> + +<p>These observations are disinterested. I have never, curiously enough, +heeded the insistent call of the diggings; I have never "washed a pan," +and my name has never appeared on the share-list of a mine. And this, +too, has been in spite of the fact that often I have been directly in +the paths of the various excitements. I have been always wise enough to +see that the men who made rapid fortunes in gold were not the men who +stampeded head-over-heels to the diggings, but the men who stayed behind +and opened up some kind of business which the gold-seekers would +patronize. These were the reapers of the harvest, and there was little +risk in their game, although the stakes were high.</p> + +<p>I have said that I never owned a mining share. Well, I never did; but +once I came close to owning a part share in what is now the richest +copper mine on earth—a mine that, with the Anaconda in Montana, almost +determines the price of raw copper. I will tell you the tale.</p> + +<p>Along in the middle seventies—I think it was '74, I was partner with a +man named George Stevens at Eureka Springs, west of Fort Thomas in the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>Apache country, a trading station for freighters. We were owners of the +trading station, which was some distance south of where the copper +cities of Globe and Miami are now situated. We made very good money at +the station and Stevens and I decided to have some repairs and additions +built to the store. We looked around for a mason and finally hired one +named George Warren, a competent man whose only fault was a fondness for +the cup that cheers.</p> + +<p>Warren was also a prospector of some note and had made several rich +strikes. It was known that, while he had never found a bonanza, wherever +he announced "pay dirt" there "pay dirt" invariably was to be found. In +other words, he had a reputation for reliability that was valuable to +him and of which he was intensely vain. He was a man with "hunches," and +hunches curiously enough, that almost always made good.</p> + +<p>These hunches were more or less frequent with Warren. They usually came +when he was broke for, like all prospectors, Warren found it highly +inconvenient ever to be the possessor of a large sum of money for any +length of time. He had been known to say to a friend: "I've got a +hunch!" disappear, and in a week or two, return with a liberal amount of +dust. Between hunches he worked at his trade.</p> + +<p>When he had completed his work on the store at Eureka Springs for myself +and Stevens, Warren drew me aside one night and, very confidentially, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>informed me that he had a hunch. "You're welcome to it, George," I +said, and, something calling me away at that moment, I did not hear of +him again until I returned from New Fort Grant, whither I had gone with +a load of hay for which we had a valuable contract with the government. +Then Stevens informed me that Warren had told him of his hunch, had +asked for a grub-stake, and, on being given one, had departed in a +southerly direction with the information that he expected to make a find +over in the Dos Cabezas direction.</p> + +<p>He was gone several weeks, and then one day Stevens said to me, quietly:</p> + +<p>"John, Warren's back."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" I answered. "Did he make a strike?"</p> + +<p>"He found a copper mine," said Stevens.</p> + +<p>"Oh, only copper!" I laughed. "That hunch system of his must have got +tarnished by this time, then!"</p> + +<p>You see, copper at that time was worth next to nothing. There was no big +smelter in the Territory and it was almost impossible to sell the ore. +So it was natural enough that neither myself nor Stevens should feel +particularly jubilant over Warren's strike. One day I thought to ask +Warren whether he had christened his mine yet, as was the custom.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to call it the 'Copper Queen,'" he said.</p> + +<p>I laughed at him for the name, but admitted it a good one. That mine +today, reader, is one of the greatest copper properties in the world. It +is worth <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>about a billion dollars. The syndicate that owns it owns as +well a good slice of Arizona.</p> + +<p>"Syndicate?" I hear you ask. "Why, what about Warren, the man who found +the mine, and Stevens, the man who grub-staked him?"</p> + +<p>Ah! What about them! George Stevens bet his share of the mine against +$75 at a horse race one day, and lost; and George Warren, the man with +the infallible hunch, died years back in squalid misery, driven there by +drink and the memory of many empty discoveries. The syndicate that +obtained the mine from Warren gave him a pension amply sufficient for +his needs, I believe. It is but fair to state that had the mine been +retained by Warren the probabilities are it would never have been +developed, for Warren, like other old prospectors, was a genius at +finding pay-streaks, but a failure when it came to exploiting them.</p> + +<p>That, reader, is the true story of the discovery of the Copper Queen, +the mine that has made a dozen fortunes and two cities—Bisbee and +Douglas. If I had gone in with Stevens in grub-staking poor Warren would +I, too, I wonder, have sold my share for some foolish trifle or +recklessly gambled it away? I wonder!... Probably, I should.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><a name="A" id="A"></a> +<br /> + +<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +<br /> +<h2>A FRONTIER BUSINESS MAN</h2> +<br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>The chip of chisel, hum of saw,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>The stones of progress laid;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The city grew, and, helped by its law,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Men many fortunes made.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p style="margin-left: 40%; margin-top: -1em;">—Song of the City, by <span class="smcap">T. Burgess.</span></p> + +<p>A Phoenix man was in Patagonia recently and—I don't say he was a +typical Phoenix man—commented in a superior tone on the size of the +town.</p> + +<p>"Why," he said, as if it clinched the argument, "Phoenix would make ten +Patagonias."</p> + +<p>"And then some," I assented, "but, sonny, I built the third house in +Phoenix. Did you know that? And I burnt Indian grain fields in the Salt +River Valley long before anyone ever thought of building a city there. +Even a big city has had some time to be a small one."</p> + +<p>That settled it; the Phoenix gentleman said no more.</p> + +<p>I told him only the exact truth when I said that I built the third house +in Phoenix.</p> + +<p>After I had started the Wickenburg restaurant came rumors that a new +city was to be started in the fertile Salt River Valley, between Sacaton +and Prescott, some forty or fifty miles north of the former place. +Stories came that men had tilled the land of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>the valley and had found +that it would grow almost anything, as, indeed, it has since been found +that any land in Arizona will do, providing the water is obtained to +irrigate it. One of Arizona's most wonderful phenomena is the sudden +greening of the sandy stretches after a heavy rain. One day everything +is a sun-dried brown, as far as the eye can see. Every arroyo is dry, +the very cactus seems shriveled and the deep blue of the sky gives no +promise of any relief. Then, in the night, thunder-clouds roll up from +the painted hills, a tropical deluge resembling a cloud-burst falls, and +in the morning—lo! where was yellow sand parched from months of +drought, is now sprouting green grass! It is a marvelous +transformation—a miracle never to be forgotten by one who has seen it.</p> + +<p>However, irrigation is absolutely necessary to till the soil in most +districts of Arizona, though in some sections of the State dry farming +has been successfully resorted to. It has been said that Arizona has +more rivers and less water than any state in the Union, and this is +true. Many of these are rivers only in the rainy season, which in the +desert generally comes about the middle of July and lasts until early +fall. Others are what is known as "sinking rivers," flowing above ground +for parts of their courses, and as frequently sinking below the sand, to +reappear further along. The Sonoita, upon which Patagonia is situated, +is one of these "disappearing rivers," the water coming up out of the +sand about <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>half a mile from the main street. The big rivers, the +Colorado, the Salt, the upper Gila and the San Pedro, run the year +around, and there are several smaller streams in the more fertile +districts that do the same thing.</p> + +<p>The larger part of the Arizona "desert" is not barren sand, but fertile +silt and adobe, needing only water to make of it the best possible soil +for farming purposes. Favored by a mild winter climate the Salt River +Valley can be made to produce crops of some kind each month in the +year—fruits in the fall, vegetables in the winter season, grains in +spring and alfalfa, the principal crop, throughout the summer. A +succession of crops may oftentimes be grown during the year on one farm, +so that irrigated lands in Arizona yield several times the produce +obtainable in the Eastern states. Alfalfa may be cut six or seven times +a year with a yield of as much as ten tons to the acre. The finest +Egyptian cotton, free from the boll weevil scourge, may also be grown +successfully and is fast becoming one of the staple products of the +State. Potatoes, strawberries, pears, peaches and melons, from temperate +climates; and citrus fruits, sorghum grains and date palms from +subtropical regions, give some idea of the range of crops possible here. +Many farmers from the Eastern and Southern states and from California, +finding this out, began to take up land, dig irrigating ditches and make +homes in Arizona.</p> + +<p>Fifteen or twenty pioneers had gone to the Salt <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>River Valley while I +was at Wickenburg and there had taken up quarter sections on which they +raised, chiefly, barley, wheat, corn and hay. A little fruit was also +experimented in. Some of the men who were on the ground at the beginning +I remember to have been Dennis and Murphy, Tom Gray, Jack Walters, +Johnny George, George Monroe, Joe Fugit, Jack Swilling, Patterson, the +Parkers, the Sorrels, the Fenters and a few others whose names I do not +recall. A townsite had been laid out, streets surveyed, and before long +it became known that the Territory had a new city, the name of which was +Phoenix.</p> + +<p>The story of the way in which the name "Phoenix" was given to the city +that in future days was to become the metropolis of the State, is +interesting. When the Miner excitement was over I decided to move to the +new Salt River townsite, and soon after my arrival there attended a +meeting of citizens gathered together to name the new city. Practically +every settler in the Valley was at this meeting, which was destined to +become historic.</p> + +<p>Among those present was a Frenchman named Darrel Dupper, or Du Perre, as +his name has sometimes been written, who was a highly educated man and +had lived in Arizona for a number of years. When the question of naming +the townsite came up several suggestions were offered, among them being +"Salt City," "Aricropolis," and others. Dupper rose to his feet and +suggested that the city be called <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>Phoenix, because, he explained, the +Phoenix was a bird of beautiful plumage and exceptional voice, which +lived for five hundred years and then, after chanting its death-song, +prepared a charnel-house for itself and was cremated, after which a new +and glorified bird arose from the ashes to live a magnificent existence +forever. When Dupper finished his suggestion and explanation the meeting +voted on the names and the Frenchman's choice was decided upon. +"Phoenix" it has been ever since.</p> + +<p>Before I had been in Phoenix many days I commenced the building of a +restaurant, which I named the Capital Restaurant. The capital was then +at Prescott, having been moved from Tucson, but my name evidently must +have been prophetic, for the capital city of Arizona is now none other +than Phoenix, which at the present day probably has the largest +population in the State—over twenty thousand.</p> + +<p>Soon I gained other interests in Phoenix besides the restaurant. The +Capital made me much money, and I invested what I did not spend in +"having a good time," in various other enterprises. I went into the +butcher business with Steel & Coplin. I built the first bakery in +Phoenix. I staked two men to a ranch north of the city, from which I +later on proceeded to flood the Territory with sweet potatoes. I was the +first man, by the way, to grow sweet potatoes in Arizona. I built a +saloon and dance hall, and in this, naturally, was my quickest turnover.</p> + +<p>I am not an apologist, least of all for myself, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>as this is the true +story of a life I believe to have been exceptionally varied I think that +in it should be related the things I did which might be considered "bad" +nowadays, as well as the things I did which, by the same token, +present-day civilization may consider "good."</p> + +<p>I may relate, therefore, that for some years I was known as the largest +liquor dealer in the Territory, as well as one of the shrewdest hands at +cards. Although I employed men to do the work, often players would +insist on my dealing the monte deck or laying down the faro lay-out for +them. I played for big stakes, too—bigger stakes than people play for +nowadays in the West. Many times I have sat down with the equivalent of +thousands of dollars in chips and played them all away, only to regain +them again without thinking it anything particularly unusual. As games +go, I was considered "lucky" for a gambler. Though not superstitious, I +believed in this luck of mine, and this is probably the reason that it +held good for so long. If of late various things, chiefly the mining +depression, have made my fortunes all to the bad, I am no man to whine +at the inevitable. I can take my ipecac along with the next man!</p> + +<p>There were few men in the old days in Phoenix, or, indeed, the entire +Territory, who did not drink liquor, and lots of it. In fact, it may be +said that the entire fabric of the Territory was constructed on liquor. +The pioneers were most of them whiskey fiends, as were the gamblers. +By this I am not defending the liquor traffic. I have sold more liquor +than any man in Arizona over the bar in my life-time, but I voted dry at +the last election and I adhere to the belief that a whiskey-less Arizona +will be the best for our children and our children's children.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep076" id="imagep076"></a> +<a href="images/imagep076.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep076.jpg" width="48%" alt="The Old Ward Homestead" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;">THE OLD WARD HOMESTEAD, WHERE CADY KEPT STORE DURING THE +BUILDING OF THE SANTA FE RAILROAD<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>During my residence in Phoenix Darrel Dupper, the man who had christened +the town, became one of my best friends. He kept the post and trading +store at Desert Station, at which place was the only water to be found +between Phoenix and Wickenburg, if I remember correctly. The station +made him wealthy. Dupper was originally Count Du Perre, and came of a +noted aristocratic French family. His forefathers were, I believe, +prominent in the court of Louis XIV. When a young man he committed some +foolhardy act in France and was banished by his people, who sent him a +monthly remittance on condition that he get as far away from his home as +he could, and stay there. To fulfill the terms of this agreement Du +Perre came to Arizona among the early pioneers and soon proved that he +had the stuff of a real man in him. He learned English and Americanized +his name to Dupper. He engaged in various enterprises and finally +started Desert Station, where he made his fortune.</p> + +<p>He was a curious character as he became older. Sometimes he would stay +away from Phoenix for several months and then one day he would appear +with a few thousand dollars, more or less, spend <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>every cent of it in +treating the boys in my house and "blow back" home again generally in my +debt. He used to sing La Marseillaise—it was the only song he knew—and +after the first few drinks would solemnly mount a table, sing a few +verses of the magnificent revolutionary song, call on me to do likewise, +and then "treat the house." Often he did this several times each night, +and as "treating the house" invariably cost at least thirty dollars and +he was an inveterate gambler, it will be seen that in one way or another +I managed to secure considerable of old Dupper's fortune. His partiality +to the Marseillaise leads me to the belief that he was banished for +participation in one of the French revolutions; but this I cannot state +positively.</p> + +<p>On one occasion I remember that I was visiting with Dupper and we made a +trip together somewhere, Dupper leaving his cook in charge. When we +returned nobody noticed us and I happened to look through a window +before entering the house. Hastily I beckoned to Dupper.</p> + +<p>The Frenchman's cook was sitting on his bed with a pile of money—the +day's takings—in front of him. He was dividing the pile into two +halves. Taking one bill off the pile he would lay it to one side and +say:</p> + +<p>"This is for Dupper."</p> + +<p>Then he'd take the next bill, lay it in another spot, and say:</p> + +<p>"And this is for me."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>We watched him through the window unnoticed until he came to the last +ten-dollar bill. It was odd. The cook deliberated a few moments and +finally put the bill on top of the pile he had reserved for himself. +Then Dupper, whose face had been a study in emotions, could keep still +no longer.</p> + +<p>"Hey, there!" he yelled, "play fair—play fair! Divvy up that ten spot!"</p> + +<p>What happened afterwards to that cook I don't remember. But Dupper was a +good sport.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><a name="Ventures" id="Ventures"></a> +<br /> + +<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +<br /> +<h2>VENTURES AND ADVENTURES</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Hush! What brooding stillness is hanging over all?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>What's this talk in whispers, and that placard on the wall?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Aha! I see it now! They're going to hang a man!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Judge Lynch is on the ramparts and the Law's an "Also-Ran!"</i><br /></span> +<span class="i14 smcap">—Woon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Reader, have you ever seen the look in a man's eyes after he has been +condemned by that Court of Last Appeal—his fellow-men? I have, many +times. It is a look without a shadow of hope left, a look of dread at +the ferocity of the mob, a look of fear at what is to come afterwards; +and seldom a hint of defiance lurks in such a man's expression.</p> + +<p>I have seen and figured in many lynchings. In the old days they were the +inseparables, the Frontier and Judge Lynch. If a white man killed a +Mexican or Indian nothing was done, except perhaps to hold a farce of a +trial with the killer in the end turned loose; and if a white man killed +another white man there was seldom much outcry, unless the case was +cold-blooded murder or the killer was already unpopular. But let a +Mexican or an Indian lift one finger against a white man and the whole +strength of the Whites was against him in a moment; he was hounded to +his hole, dragged forth, tried by a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>committee of citizens over whom +Judge Lynch sat with awful solemnity, and was forthwith hung.</p> + +<p>More or less of this was in some degree necessary. The killing of an +Apache was accounted a good day's work, since it probably meant that the +murderer of several white men had gone to his doom. To kill a Mexican +only meant that another "bad hombre" had gone to his just deserts.</p> + +<p>And most of the Mexicans in Arizona in the early days were "bad +hombres"—there is no doubt about that. It was they who gave the Mexican +such a bad name on the frontier, and it was they who first earned the +title "greaser." They were a murderous, treacherous lot of rascals.</p> + +<p>In the Wickenburg stage massacre, for instance, it was known that +several Mexicans were involved—wood-choppers. One of these Mexicans was +hunted for weeks and was caught soon after I arrived in Phoenix. I was +running my dance hall when a committee of citizens met in a mass-meeting +and decided that the law was too slow in its working and gave the +Mexican too great an opportunity to escape. The meeting then resolved +itself into a hanging committee, broke open the jail, seized the +prisoner from the arms of the sheriff and hung him to the rafters just +inside the jail door. That done, they returned to their homes and +occupations satisfied that at least one "Greaser" had not evaded the +full penalty of his crimes.</p> + +<p>Soon after a Mexican arrived in town with a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>string of cows to sell. +Somebody recognized the cows as ones that had belonged to a rancher +named Patterson. The Mexican was arrested by citizens and a horseman +sent out to investigate. Patterson was found killed. At once, and with +little ceremony, the Mexican with the cattle was "strung up" to the +cross of a gatepost, his body being left to sway in the wind until +somebody came along with sufficient decency to cut it down.</p> + +<p>Talking about lynchings, reminds me of an incident that had almost +slipped my mind. Before I went to Wickenburg from Tucson I became +partners with a man named Robert Swope in a bar and gambling lay-out in +a little place named Adamsville, a few miles below where Florence now is +on the Gila River. Swope was tending bar one night when an American shot +him dead and got away. The murderer was soon afterward captured in +Tucson and lynched in company with two Mexicans who were concerned in +the murder of a pawnbroker there.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In Phoenix I married my first wife, whose given name was Ruficia. Soon +afterwards I moved to Tucson, where, after being awarded one child, I +had domestic trouble which ended in the courts. My wife finally returned +to Phoenix and, being free again, married a man named Murphy. After this +experience I determined to take no further chances with matrimony. +However, I needed a helpmate, so I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>solved the difficulty by marrying +Paola Ortega by contract for five years. Contract marriages were +universally recognized and indulged in in the West of the early days. My +relations with Paola were eminently satisfactory until the expiration of +the contract, when she went her way and I mine.</p> + +<p>Before I leave the subject of Phoenix it will be well to mention that +when I left I sold all my property there, consisting of some twenty-two +lots, all in the heart of the city, for practically a song. Six of these +lots were situated where now is a big planing mill. Several lots I sold +to a German for a span of mules. The German is alive today and lives in +Phoenix a wealthy man, simply because he had the foresight and acumen to +do what I did not do—hang on to his real estate. If I had kept those +twenty-two lots until now, without doing more than simply pay my taxes +on them, my fortune today would be comfortably up in the six figures. +However, I sold the lots, and there's no use crying over spilled milk. +Men are doing today all over the world just what I did then.</p> + +<p>I had not been in Tucson long before I built there the largest saloon +and dance-hall in the Territory. Excepting for one flyer in Florence, +which I shall speak of later on, this was to be my last venture into the +liquor business. My hall was modeled after those on the Barbary Coast. +It cost "four-bits" and drinks to dance, and the dances lasted only a +few minutes. At one time I had thirteen Mexican girls <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>dancing in the +hall, and this number was increased on special days until the floor was +crowded. I always did good business—so good, in fact, that jealousy +aroused in the minds of my rivals finally forced me out. Since then, as +I have said, with the single Florence exception, I have not been in the +dance-hall business, excepting that I now have at some expense put a +ballroom into my hotel at Patagonia, in which are held at times social +dances which most of the young folk of the county attend, the liquor +element being entirely absent, of course.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> + +<p>Besides paying a heavy license for the privilege of selling liquor in my +Tucson dance hall, I was compelled every morning, in addition, to pay +over $5 as a license for the dance-hall and $1.50 collector's fees, +which, if not paid out every morning as regularly as clockwork, would +have threatened my business. I did not complain of this tax; it was a +fair one considering the volume of trade I did. But my patronage grew +and grew until there came a day when "Cady's Place," as it was known, +was making more money for its owner than any similar establishment in +Arizona. The saloon-keepers in Tucson became inordinately jealous and +determined to put an end to my "luck," as they called it. Accordingly, +nine months after I had opened my place these gentlemen used their +influence quietly with the Legislature and "jobbed" me. The license was +raised for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>dance halls at one bound to $25 per night. This was a +heavier tax than even my business would stand, so I set about at once +looking for somebody on whom to unload the property. I claim +originality, if not a particular observance of ethics, in doing this.</p> + +<p>One day a man came along and, when he saw the crowd in the hall, +suggested that I sell him a share in the enterprise.</p> + +<p>"No," I replied, "I'll not sell you a share; but, to tell you the truth, +I'm getting tired of this business, and want to get out of it for good. +I'll sell you the whole shooting-match, if you want to buy. Suppose you +stay tonight with my barkeep and see what kind of business I do."</p> + +<p>He agreed and I put two hundred dollars in my pocket and started around +town. I spent that two hundred dollars to such good purpose that that +night the hall was crowded to the doors. The prospective purchaser +looked on with blinking eyes at the thought of the profits that must +accrue to the owner. Would he buy the place? Would he? Well, say—he was +so anxious to buy it that he wanted to pass over the cash when he saw me +counting up my takings in the small hours of the morning. The takings +were, I remember, $417. But I told him not to be in a hurry, to go home +and sleep over the proposition and come back the next day.</p> + +<p>After he had gone the collector came around, took his $26.50 and +departed. On his heels came my man.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>"Do you still want to buy?" I asked him.</p> + +<p>"You bet your sweet life I want to buy," he replied.</p> + +<p>"You're sure you've investigated the proposition fully?" I asked him.</p> + +<p>The customer thought of that four hundred and seventeen dollars taken in +over the bar the night before and said he had.</p> + +<p>"Hand over the money, then," I said, promptly. "The place is yours."</p> + +<p>The next morning he came to me with a lugubrious countenance.</p> + +<p>"Well," I greeted him, "how much did you make last night?"</p> + +<p>"Took in ninety-six dollars," he answered, sadly. "Cady, why didn't you +tell me about that $25 tax?"</p> + +<p>"Tell you about it?" I repeated, as if astonished. "Why, didn't I ask +you if you had investigated the thing fully? Did I ask you to go into +the deal blindfold? It wasn't my business to tell you about any tax."</p> + +<p>And with that he had to be content.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>I was now out of the dance-hall business for good, and I looked about +for some other and more prosaic occupation to indulge in. Thanks to the +deal I had put through with the confiding stranger with the ready cash, +I was pretty well "heeled" so far as money went, and all my debts were +paid. Finally I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>decided that I would go into business again and bought +a grocery store on Mesilla street.</p> + +<p>The handing out of canned tomatoes and salt soda crackers, however, +speedily got on my nerves. I was still a comparatively young man and my +restless spirit longed for expression in some new environment. About +this time Paola, my contract-wife, who was everything that a wife should +be in my opinion, became a little homesick and spoke often of the home +she had left at Sauxal, a small gulf-coast port in Lower California. +Accordingly, one morning, I took it into my head to take her home on a +visit to see her people, and, the thought being always father to the +action with me, I traded my grocery store for a buckboard and team and +some money, and set forth in this conveyance for Yuma. This was a trip +not considered so very dangerous, except for the lack of water, for the +Indians along the route were mostly peaceable and partly civilized. Only +for a short distance out of Tucson did the Apache hold suzerainty, and +this only when sufficient Papagos, whose territory it really was, could +not be mustered together in force to drive them off. The Papago Indians +hated the Apaches quite as much as the white man did, for the Papago +lacked the stamina and fighting qualities of the Apache and in other +characteristics was an entirely different type of Indian. I have reason +to believe that the Apaches were not originally natives of Arizona, but +were an offshoot of one of the more ferocious tribes further <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>north. +This I think because, for one thing, the facial characteristics of the +other Arizona Indians—the Pimas, Papagos, Yumas, Maricopas, and +others—are very similar to each other but totally different from those +of the various Apache tribes, as was the language they spoke. The +Papagos, Pimas, Yumas, Maricopas and other peaceable Indian peoples were +of a settled nature and had lived in their respective territories for +ages before the white man came to the West. The Apache, on the other +hand, was a nomad, with no definite country to call his own and +recognizing no boundary lines of other tribes. It was owing to Apache +depredations on the Papagos and Pimas that the latter were so willingly +enlisted on the side of the White man in the latter's fight for +civilization.</p> + +<p>Reaching Yuma without any event to record that I remember, we took one +of the Colorado River boats to the mouth of the Colorado, where +transfers were made to the deep-sea ships plying between the Colorado +Gulf and San Francisco. One of these steamers, which were creditable to +the times, we took to La Paz. At La Paz Paola was fortunate enough to +meet her padrina, or godfather, who furnished us with mules and horses +with which we reached Sauxal, Paola's home. There we stayed with her +family for some time.</p> + +<p>While staying at Sauxal I went to a fiesta in the Arroyo San Luis and +there began playing cooncan with an old rancher who was accounted one of +the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>most wealthy inhabitants of the country. I won from him two +thousand oranges, five gallons of wine, seventeen buckskins and two +hundred heifers. The heifers I presented to Paola and the buckskins I +gave to her brothers to make leggings out of. The wine and oranges I +took to La Paz and sold, netting a neat little sum thereby.</p> + +<p>Sixty miles from La Paz was El Triunfo, one of the best producing silver +mines in Lower California, managed by a man named Blake. Obeying an +impulse I one day went out to the mine and secured a job, working at it +for some time, and among other things starting a small store which was +patronized by the company's workmen. Growing tired of this occupation, I +returned to Sauxal, fetched Paola and with her returned to Yuma, or +Arizona City, where I started a small chicken ranch a few miles up the +river. Coyotes and wolves killed my poultry, however, and sores +occasioned by ranch work broke out on my hands, so I sold the chicken +ranch and moved to Arizona City, opening a restaurant on the main +street. In this cafe I made a specialty of pickled feet—not pig's feet, +but bull's feet, for which delicacy I claim the original creation. It +was some dish, too! They sold like hot-cakes.</p> + +<p>While I was in Lower California I witnessed a sight that is well worth +speaking of. It was a Mexican funeral, and the queerest one I ever saw +or expect to see, though I have read of Chinese funerals that perhaps +approach it in peculiarity. It was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>while on my way back to Sauxal from +La Paz that I met the cortege. The corpse was that of a wealthy +rancher's wife, and the coffin was strung on two long poles borne by +four men. Accompanying the coffin alongside of those carrying it were +about two hundred horsemen. The bearers kept up a jog-trot, never once +faltering on the way, each horseman taking his turn on the poles. When +it became a man's turn to act as bearer nobody told him, but he slipped +off his horse, letting it run wherever it pleased, ran to the coffin, +ducked under the pole and started with the others on the jog-trot, while +the man whose place he had taken caught his horse. Never once in a carry +of 150 miles did that coffin stop, and never once did that jog-trot +falter. The cortege followers ate at the various ranches they passed, +nobody thinking of refusing them food. The 150 mile journey to San Luis +was necessary in order to reach a priest who would bury the dead woman. +All the dead were treated in the same manner.</p> + +<p>While I was in Yuma the railroad reached Dos Palmas, Southern +California, and one day I went there with a wagon and bought a load of +apples, which, with one man to accompany me, I hauled all the way to +Tucson. That wagon-load of apples was the first fruit to arrive in the +Territory and it was hailed with acclaim. I sold the lot for one +thousand dollars, making a profit well over fifty per cent. Then with +the wagon I returned to Yuma.</p> + +<p>On the way, as I was nearing Yuma, I stopped at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>Canyon Station, which a +man named Ed. Lumley kept. Just as we drove up an old priest came out of +Lumley's house crying something aloud. We hastened up and he motioned +inside. Within we saw poor Lumley dead, with both his hands slashed off +and his body bearing other marks of mutilation. It turned out that two +Mexicans to whom Lumley had given shelter had killed him because he +refused to tell them where he kept his money. The Mexicans were +afterwards caught in California, taken to Maricopa county and there, +after trial by the usual method, received the just penalty for their +crime.</p> + +<p>From Yuma I moved to Florence, Arizona, where I built a dance-hall and +saloon, which I sold almost immediately to an Italian named Gendani. +Then I moved back to Tucson, my old stamping-ground.</p> + +<p>FOOTNOTE:</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Since this was written the State has abolished the sale of +liquor from within its boundaries.</p></div> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><a name="Indian" id="Indian"></a> +<br /> + +<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +<br /> +<h2>INDIAN WARFARE</h2> +<br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>When strong men fought and loved and lost,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And might was right throughout the land;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>When life was wine and wine was life,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And God looked down on endless strife;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Where murder, lust and hate were rife,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>What footprints Time left in the sand!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10 smcap">—Woon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In the seventies and early eighties the hostility of the various Apache +Indian tribes was at its height, and there was scarcely a man in the +Territory who had not at some time felt the dread of these implacable +enemies.</p> + +<p>By frequent raids on emigrants' wagons and on freighting outfits, the +Indians had succeeded in arming themselves fairly successfully with the +rifle of the white man; and they kept themselves in ammunition by raids +on lonely ranches and by "jumping" or ambushing prospectors and lone +travelers. If a man was outnumbered by Apaches he often shot himself, +for he knew that if captured he would probably be tortured by one of the +fiendish methods made use of by these Indians. If he had a woman with +him it was an act of kindness to shoot her, too, for to her, also, even +if the element of torture were absent, captivity with the Indians would +invariably be an even sadder fate.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep092" id="imagep092"></a> +<a href="images/imagep092.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep092.jpg" width="90%" alt="Cady's Sheep Camp on the Sonoita" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">CADY'S SHEEP CAMP ON THE SONOITA, DECEMBER 8, 1914. BUILT +IN 1884<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>Sometimes bands of whites would take the place of the soldiers and +revenge themselves on Apache raiders. There was the raid on the Wooster +ranch, for instance. This ranch was near Tubac. Wooster lived alone on +the ranch with his wife and one hired man. One morning Apaches swooped +down on the place, killed Wooster and carried off his wife. As she has +never been heard of since it has always been supposed that she was +killed. This outrage resulted in the famous "Camp Grant Massacre," the +tale of which echoed all over the world, together with indignant +protests from centers of culture in the East that the whites of Arizona +were "more savage" than the savages themselves. I leave it to the reader +to judge whether this was a fact.</p> + +<p>The Wooster raid and slaughter was merely the culminating tragedy of a +series of murders, robberies and depredations carried on by the Apaches +for years. Soldiers would follow the raiders, kill a few of them in +retaliation, and a few days later another outrage would be perpetrated. +The Apaches were absolutely fearless in the warfare they carried on for +possession of what they, rightly or wrongly, considered their invaded +territory. The Apache with the greatest number of murders to his name +was most highly thought of by his tribe.</p> + +<p>When the Wooster raid occurred I was in Tucson. Everybody in Tucson knew +Wooster and liked him. There was general mourning and a cry for instant +revenge when his murder was heard of. For a long <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>time it had been +believed that the Indians wintering on the government reservation at +Camp Grant, at the expense of Uncle Sam, were the authors of the +numerous raids in the vicinity of Tucson, though until that time it had +been hard to convince the authorities that such was the case. This time, +however, it became obvious that something had to be done.</p> + +<p>The white men of Tucson held a meeting, at which I was present. Sidney +R. De Long, first Mayor of Tucson, was also there. After the meeting had +been called to order De Long rose and said:</p> + +<p>"Boys, this thing has got to be stopped. The military won't believe us +when we tell them that their charity to the Indians is our undoing—that +the government's wards are a pack of murderers and cattle thieves. What +shall we do?"</p> + +<p>"Let the military go hang, and the government, too!" growled one man, +"Old Bill" Oury, a considerable figure in the life of early Tucson, and +an ex-Confederate soldier.</p> + +<p>The meeting applauded.</p> + +<p>"We can do what the soldiers won't," I said.</p> + +<p>"Right!" said Oury, savagely. "Let's give these devils a taste of their +own medicine. Maybe after a few dozen of 'em are killed they'll learn +some respect for the white man."</p> + +<p>Nobody vetoed the suggestion.</p> + +<p>The following day six white men—myself, De Long and fierce old Bill +Oury among them, rode out <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>of Tucson bound for Tubac. With us we had +three Papago Indian trailers. Arrived at the Wooster ranch the Papagos +were set to work and followed a trail that led plain as daylight to the +Indian camp at Fort Grant. A cry escaped all of us at this justification +of our suspicions.</p> + +<p>"That settles it!" ground out Oury, between his set teeth. "It's them +Injuns or us. And—it won't be us."</p> + +<p>We returned to Tucson, rounded up a party consisting of about fifty +Papagos, forty-five Mexicans and ourselves, and set out for Camp Grant. +We reached the fort at break of day, or just before, and before the +startled Apaches could fully awaken to what was happening, or the +near-by soldiers gather their wits together, eighty-seven Aravaipa +Apaches had been slain as they lay. The Papagos accounted for most of +the dead, but we six white men and our Mexican friends did our part. It +was bloody work; but it was justice, and on the frontier then the whites +made their own justice.</p> + +<p>All of us were arrested, as a matter of course, and when word reached +General Sherman at Washington from the commander of the military forces +at Fort Grant, an order was issued that all of us were to be tried for +murder. We suffered no qualms, for we knew that according to frontier +standards what we had done was right, and would inevitably have been +done some time or another by somebody. We were tried in Judge Titus' +Territorial Court, but, to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>the dismay of the military and General +Sherman, who of course knew nothing of the events that had preceded the +massacre, not a man in the jury could be found who would hang us. The +Territory was searched for citizens impartial enough to adjudge the +slaying of a hostile Apache as murder, but none could be found. The +trial turned out a farce and we were all acquitted, to receive the +greatest demonstration outside the courtroom that men on trial for their +lives ever received in Arizona, I think. One thing that made our +acquittal more than certain was the fact, brought out at the trial, that +the dress of Mrs. Wooster and a pair of moccasins belonging to her +husband were found on the bodies of Indians whom we killed. Lieutenant +Whitman, who was in command at Fort Grant, and on whom the +responsibility for the conduct of the Indians wintering there chiefly +rested, was soon after relieved from duty and transferred to another +post. General George Crook arrived to take his place late in 1871. The +massacre had occurred on the last day of April of that year.</p> + +<p>Other raids occurred. Al Peck, an old and valued friend of mine, had +several experiences with the Apaches, which culminated in the Peck raid +of April 27, 1886, when Apaches jumped his ranch, killed his wife and a +man named Charles Owens and carried off Peck's niece. Apparently +satisfied with this, they turned Peck loose, after burning the ranch +house. The unfortunate man's step-niece was found <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>some six weeks later +by Mexican cowpunchers in the Cocoapi Mountains in Old Mexico.</p> + +<p>The famous massacre of the Samaniego freight teams and the destruction +of his outfit at Cedar Springs, between Fort Thomas and Wilcox, was +witnessed by Charles Beck, another friend of mine. Beck had come in with +a quantity of fruit and was unloading it when he heard a fusilade of +shots around a bend in the road. A moment later a boy came by +helter-skelter on a horse.</p> + +<p>"Apaches!" gasped the boy, and rode on.</p> + +<p>Beck waited to hear no more. He knew that to attack one of Samaniego's +outfits there must be at least a hundred Indians in the neighborhood. +Unhitching his horse, he jumped on its back and rode for dear life in +the direction of Eureka Springs. Indians sighted him as he swept into +the open and followed, firing as they rode. By luck, however, and the +fact that his horse was fresher than those of his pursuers, Beck got +safely away.</p> + +<p>Thirteen men were killed at this Cedar Springs massacre and thousands of +dollars' worth of freight was carried off or destroyed. The raid was +unexpected owing to the fact that the Samaniego brothers had contracts +with the government and the stuff in their outfit was intended for the +very Indians concerned in the ambuscade. One of the Samaniegos was slain +at this massacre.</p> + +<p>Then there was the Tumacacori raid, at Barnett's ranch in the Tumacacori +Mountains, when Charlie <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>Murray and Tom Shaw were killed. Old Man +Frenchy, as he was called, suffered the severe loss of his freight and +teams when the Indians burned them up across the Cienega. Many other +raids occurred, particulars of which are not to hand, but those I have +related will serve as samples of the work of the Indians and will show +just how it was the Apaches gained the name they did of being veritable +fiends in human form.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>After the expiration of my contract with Paola Ortega I remained in a +state of single blessedness for some time, and then married Gregoria +Sosa, in the summer of 1879. Gregoria rewarded me with one child, a boy, +who is now living in Nogales. On December 23, 1889, Gregoria died and in +October, 1890, I married my present wife, whose maiden name was Donna +Paz Paderes, and who belongs to an old line of Spanish aristocracy in +Mexico. We are now living together in the peace and contentment of old +age, well occupied in bringing up and providing for our family of two +children, Mary, who will be twenty years old on February 25, 1915, and +Charlie, who will be sixteen on the same date. Both our children, by the +grace of God, have been spared us after severe illnesses.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>To make hundreds of implacable enemies at one stroke is something any +man would very naturally <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>hesitate to do, but I did just that about a +year after I commenced working for D. A. Sanford, one of the biggest +ranchers between the railroad and the border. The explanation of this +lies in one word—sheep.</p> + +<p>If there was one man whom cattlemen hated with a fierce, unreasoning +hatred, it was the man who ran sheep over the open range—a proceeding +perfectly legal, but one which threatened the grazing of the cattle +inasmuch as where sheep had grazed it was impossible for cattle to feed +for some weeks, or until the grass had had time to grow again. Sheep +crop almost to the ground and feed in great herds, close together, and +the range after a herd of sheep has passed over it looks as if somebody +had gone over it with a lawnmower.</p> + +<p>In 1881 I closed out the old Sanford ranch stock and was informed by my +employer that he had foreclosed a mortgage on 13,000 head of sheep owned +by Tully, Ochoa and De Long of Tucson. This firm was the biggest at that +time in the Territory and the De Long of the company was one of the six +men who led the Papagos in the Camp Grant Massacre. He died in Tucson +recently and I am now the only white survivor of that occurrence. Tully, +Ochoa and De Long were forced out of business by the coming of the +railroad in 1880, which cheapened things so much that the large stock +held by the company was sold at prices below what it had cost, +necessitating bankruptcy.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>I was not surprised to hear that Sanford intended to run sheep, though I +will admit that the information was scarcely welcome. Sheep, however, at +that time were much scarcer than cattle and fetched, consequently, much +higher prices. My employer, D. A. Sanford, who now lives in Washington, +D. C., was one of the shrewdest business men in the Territory, and was, +as well, one of the best-natured of men. His business acumen is +testified to by the fact that he is now sufficiently wealthy to count +his pile in the seven figures.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sanford's wishes being my own in the matter, of course, I did as I +was told, closed out the cattle stock and set the sheep grazing on the +range. The cattlemen were angry and sent me an ultimatum to the effect +that if the sheep were not at once taken off the grass there would be +"trouble." I told them that Sanford was my boss, not them; that I would +take his orders and nobody else's, and that until he told me to take the +sheep off the range they'd stay precisely where they were.</p> + +<p>My reply angered the cattlemen more and before long I became subject to +many annoyances. Sheep were found dead, stock was driven off, my ranch +hands were shot at, and several times I myself narrowly escaped death at +the hands of the enraged cattlemen. I determined not to give in until I +received orders to that effect from Mr. Sanford, but I will admit that +it was with a feeling of distinct relief that I hailed those orders when +they came <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>three years later. For one thing, before the sheep business +came up, most of the cattlemen who were now my enemies had been my close +friends, and it hurt me to lose their esteem. I am glad to say, however, +that most of these cattlemen and cowboys, who, when I ran sheep, would +cheerfully have been responsible for my funeral, are my very good +friends at the present time; and I trust they will always remain so. +Most of them are good fellows and I have always admitted that their side +had the best argument.</p> + +<p>In spite of the opposition of the cattlemen I made the sheep business a +paying one for Mr. Sanford, clearing about $17,000 at the end of three +years. When that period had elapsed I had brought shearers to Sanford +Station to shear the sheep, but was stopped in my intention with the +news that Sanford had sold the lot to Pusch and Zellweger of Tucson. I +paid off the men I had hired, satisfied them, and thus closed my last +deal in the sheep business. One of the men, Jesus Mabot, I hired to go +to the Rodeo with me, while the Chinese gardener hired another named +Fernando.</p> + +<p>Then occurred that curious succession of fatalities among the Chinamen +in the neighborhood that puzzled us all for years and ended by its being +impossible to obtain a Chinaman to fill the last man's place.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><a name="Deputy" id="Deputy"></a> +<br /> + +<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +<br /> +<h2>DEPUTY SHERIFF, CATTLEMAN AND FARMER</h2> +<br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>You kin have yore Turner sunsets,—he never painted one</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Like th' Santa Rita Mountains at th' settin' o' th' sun!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>You kin have yore Eastern cornfields, with th' crops that never change,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Me—I've all Arizona, and, best o' all, the Range!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i14 smcap">—Woon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>About this time Sheriff Bob Paul reigned in Tucson and made me one of +his deputies. I had numerous adventures in that capacity, but remember +only one as being worth recording here.</p> + +<p>One of the toughest characters in the West at that time, a man feared +throughout the Territory, was Pat Cannon. He had a score of killings to +his credit, and, finally, when Paul became sheriff a warrant was issued +for his arrest on a charge of murder. After he had the warrant Paul came +to me.</p> + +<p>"Cady," he said, "you know Pat Cannon, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"I worked with him once," I answered.</p> + +<p>"Well," returned Paul, "here's a warrant for his arrest on a murder +charge. Go get him."</p> + +<p>I obtained a carryall and an Italian boy as driver, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>in Tucson, and +started for Camp Grant. Arrived there I was informed that it was +believed Cannon was at Smithy's wood camp, several miles away. We went +on to Smithy's wood camp. Sure enough, Pat was there—very much so. He +was the first man I spotted as I drove into the camp. Cannon was sitting +at the door of his shack, two revolvers belted on him and his rifle +standing up by the door at his side, within easy reach. I knew that Pat +didn't know that I was a deputy, so I drove right up.</p> + +<p>"Hello," I called. "How's the chance for a game of poker?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty good," he returned, amiably. "Smithy'll be in in a few moments, +John. Stick around—we have a game every night."</p> + +<p>"Sure," I responded, and descended. As I did so I drew my six-shooter +and whirled around, aiming the weapon at him point blank.</p> + +<p>"Hands up, Pat, you son-of-a-gun," I said, and I guess I grinned. +"You're my prisoner."</p> + +<p>I had told the Italian boy what to do, beforehand, and he now gave me +the steel bracelets, which I snapped on Cannon, whose face bore an +expression seemingly a mixture of intense astonishment and disgust. +Finally, when I had him safely in the carryall, he spat out a huge chew +of tobacco and swore.</p> + +<p>He said nothing to me for awhile, and then he remarked, in an injured +way:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>"Wa-al, Johnny, I sure would never have thought it of you!"</p> + +<p>He said nothing more, except to ask me to twist him a cigarette or two, +and when we reached Tucson I turned him over safely to Sheriff Paul.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>You who read this in your stuffy city room, or crowded subway seat, +imagine, if you can, the following scene:</p> + +<p>Above, the perfect, all-embracing blue of the Arizona sky; set flaming +in the middle of it the sun, a glorious blazing orb whose beauty one may +dare to gaze upon only through smoked glasses; beneath, the Range, +which, far from being a desert, is covered with a growth of grass which +grows thicker and greener as the rivers' banks are reached.</p> + +<p>All around, Arizona—the painted hills, looking as though someone had +carefully swept them early in the morning with a broom; the valleys +studded with mesquite trees and greasewood and dotted here and there +with brown specks which even the uninitiated will know are cattle, and +the river, one of Arizona's minor streams, a few yards across and only a +couple of feet deep, but swift-rushing, pebble-strew'd and clear as +crystal.</p> + +<p>Last, but not least, a heterogeneous mob of cowboys and vaqueros, with +their horses champing at the bit and eager to be off on their work. In +the foreground a rough, unpainted corral, where are <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>more +ponies—wicked-looking, intelligent little beggars, but quick turning as +though they owned but two legs instead of four, and hence priceless for +the work of the roundup. In the distance, some of them quietly and +impudently grazing quite close at hand, are the cattle, the object of +the day's gathering.</p> + +<p>Cowboys from perhaps a dozen or more ranches are gathered here, for this +is the commencement of the Rodeo—the roundup of cattle that takes place +semi-annually. Even ranches whose cattle are not grazed on this +particular range have representatives here, for often there are strays +with brands that show them to have traveled many scores of miles. The +business of the cowboys<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> is to round up and corral the cattle and pick +out their own brands from the herd. They then see that the unbranded +calves belonging to cows of their brand are properly marked with the hot +iron and with the ear-slit, check up the number of yearlings for the +benefit of their employers, and take charge of such of the cattle it is +considered advisable to drive back to the home ranch.</p> + +<p>So much sentimental nonsense has been talked of the cruelty of branding +and slitting calves that it is worth while here, perhaps, to state +positively that the branding irons do not penetrate the skin and serve +simply to burn the roots of the hair so that the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>bald marks will show +to which ranch the calf belongs. There is little pain to the calf +attached to the operation, and one rarely if ever even sees a calf +licking its brand after it has been applied; and, as is well known, the +cow's remedy for an injury, like that of a dog, is always to lick it. As +to the ear-slitting, used by most ranches as a check on their brands, it +may be said that if the human ear is somewhat callous to pain—as it +is—the cow's ear is even more so. One may slice a cow's ear in half in +a certain way and she will feel only slight pain, not sufficient to make +her give voice. The slitting of a cow's ear draws very little blood.</p> + +<p>While I am on the subject,—it was amusing to note the unbounded +astonishment of the cattlemen of Arizona a few years ago when some +altruistic society of Boston came forward with a brilliant idea that was +to abolish the cruelty of branding cows entirely. What was the idea? Oh, +they were going to hang a collar around the cow's neck, with a brass tag +on it to tell the name of the owner. Or, if that wasn't feasible, they +thought that a simple ring and tag put through the cow's ear-lobe would +prove eminently satisfactory! The feelings of the cowboys, when told +that they would be required to dismount from their horses, walk up to +each cow in turn and politely examine her tag, perhaps with the aid of +spectacles, may be better imagined than described. It is sufficient to +say that the New England <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>society's idea never got further than +Massachusetts, if it was, indeed, used there, which is doubtful.</p> + +<p>The brand is absolutely necessary as long as there is an open range, and +the abolishment of the open range will mean the abandonment of the +cow-ranch. At the time I am speaking of the whole of the Territory of +Arizona was one vast open range, over the grassy portions of which +cattle belonging to hundreds of different ranches roamed at will. Most +of the big ranches employed a few cowboys the year around to keep the +fences in repair and to prevent cows from straying too far from the home +range. The home range was generally anywhere within a twenty-mile radius +of the ranch house.</p> + +<p>The ear-slit was first found necessary because of the activities of the +rustlers. There were two kinds of these gentry—the kind that owned +ranches and passed themselves off as honest ranchers, and the open +outlaws, who drove off cattle by first stampeding them in the Indian +manner, rushed them across the international line and then sold them to +none too scrupulous Mexican ranchers. Of the two it is difficult to say +which was the most dangerous or the most reviled by the honest +cattlemen. The ranches within twenty or thirty miles of the border, +perhaps, suffered more from the stampeders than from the small ranchers, +but those on the northern ranges had constantly to cope with the +activities of dishonest cattlemen who owned considerably more <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>calves +than they had cows, as a rule. The difficulty was to prove that these +calves had been stolen.</p> + +<p>It was no difficult thing to steal cattle successfully, providing the +rustler exercised ordinary caution. The method most in favor among the +rustlers was as follows: For some weeks the rustler would ride the +range, noting where cows with unbranded calves were grazing. Then, when +he had ascertained that no cowboys from neighboring ranches were riding +that way, he would drive these cows and their calves into one of the +secluded and natural corrals with which the range abounds, rope the +calves, brand them with his own brand, hobble and sometimes kill the +mother cows to prevent them following their offspring, and drive the +latter to his home corral, where in the course of a few weeks they would +forget their mothers and be successfully weaned. They would then be +turned out to graze on the Range. Sometimes when the rustler did not +kill the mother cow the calf proved not to have been successfully +weaned, and went back to its mother—the worst possible advertisement of +the rustler's dirty work. Generally, therefore, the mother cow was +killed, and little trace left of the crime, for the coyotes speedily +cleaned flesh, brand and all from the bones of the slain animal. The +motto of most of these rustlers was: "A dead cow tells no tales!"</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep108" id="imagep108"></a> +<a href="images/imagep108.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep108.jpg" width="48%" alt="Cady and his Third Family, 1915" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">CADY AND HIS THIRD FAMILY, 1915<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>Another method of the rustlers was to adopt a brand much like that of a +big ranch near by, and to over-brand the cattle. For instance, a big +ranch with thousands of cattle owns the brand Cross-Bar (X—). The +rustler adopts the brand Cross L (XL) and by the addition of a vertical +mark to the bar in the first brand completely changes the brand. It was +always a puzzle for the ranchers to find brands that would not be easily +changed. Rustlers engaged in this work invariably took grave chances, +for a good puncher could tell a changed brand in an instant, and often +knew every cow belonging to his ranch by sight, without looking at the +brand. When one of these expert cowboys found a suspicious brand he lost +no time hunting up proof, and if he found that there had actually been +dirty work, the rustler responsible, if wise, would skip the country +without leaving note of his destination, for in the days of which I +speak the penalty for cow-stealing was almost always death, except when +the sheriff happened to be on the spot. Since the sheriff was invariably +heart and soul a cattleman himself, he generally took care that he +wasn't anywhere in the neighborhood when a cattle thief met his just +deserts. Even now this rule holds effect in the cattle lands. Only two +years ago a prominent rancher in this country—the Sonoita Range—shot +and killed a Mexican who with a partner had been caught red-handed in +the act of stealing cattle.</p> + +<p>With the gradual disappearance of the open range, cattle stealing has +practically stopped, although one still hears at times of cases of the +kind, isolated, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>but bearing traces of the same old methods. Stampeding +is, of course, now done away with.</p> + +<p>During the years I worked for D. A. Sanford I had more or less trouble +all the time with cattle thieves, but succeeded fairly well in either +detecting the guilty ones or in getting back the stolen cattle. I meted +out swift and sure justice to rustlers, and before long it became +rumored around that it was wise to let cattle with the D.S. brand alone. +The Sanford brand was changed three times. The D.S. brand I sold to the +Vail interests for Sanford, and the Sanford brand was changed to the +Dipper, which, afterwards, following the closing out of the Sanford +stock, was again altered to the Ninety-Seven (97) brand. Cattle with the +97 brand on them still roam the range about the Sonoita.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was to a rodeo similar to the one which I have attempted to describe +that Jesus Mabot and I departed following the incident of the selling of +the sheep. We were gone a week. When we returned I put up my horse and +was seeing that he had some feed when a shout from Jesus, whom I had +sent to find the Chinese gardener to tell him we needed something to +eat, came to my ears.</p> + +<p>"Oyez, Senor Cady!" Jesus was crying, "El Chino muerte."</p> + +<p>I hurried down to the field where Mabot stood and found him gazing at +the Chinaman, who was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>lying face downward near the fence, quite dead. +By the smell and the general lay-out, I reckoned he had been dead some +three days.</p> + +<p>I told Mabot to stay with him and, jumping on my horse, rode to +Crittenden, where I obtained a coroner and a jury that would sit on the +Chinaman's death. The next morning the jury found that he had been +killed by some person or persons unknown, and let it go at that.</p> + +<p>Two weeks later I had occasion to go to Tucson, and on tying my horse +outside the Italian Brothers' saloon, noticed a man I thought looked +familiar sitting on the bench outside. As I came up he pulled his hat +over his face so that I could not see it. I went inside, ordered a +drink, and looked in the mirror. It gave a perfect reflection of the man +outside, and I saw that he was the Mexican Fernando, whom the Chinese +gardener had hired when I had engaged Mabot. I had my suspicions right +then as to who had killed the Chinaman, but, having nothing by which to +prove them, I was forced to let the matter drop.</p> + +<p>Two or three years after this I hired as vaquero a Mexican named +Neclecto, who after a year quit work and went for a visit to Nogales. +Neclecto bought his provisions from the Chinaman who kept the store I +had built on the ranch, and so, as we were responsible for the debt, +when Bob Bloxton, son-in-law of Sanford, came to pay the Mexican off, he +did so in the Chinaman's store.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>The next morning Neclecto accompanied Bloxton to the train, and, looking +back, Bob saw, the Mexican and another man ride off in the direction of +the ranch. After it happened Neclecto owned up that he had been in the +Chinaman's that night drinking, but insisted that he had left without +any trouble with the yellow-skinned storekeeper. But from that day +onward the Chinaman was never seen again.</p> + +<p>Bloxton persuaded me to return to the ranch from Nogales and we visited +the Chinaman's house, where we found the floor dug up as though somebody +had been hunting treasure. My wife found a $10 gold piece hidden in a +crack between the 'dobe bricks and later my son, John, unearthed twelve +Mexican dollars beneath some manure in the hen-coop. Whether this had +belonged to the Chinaman, Louey, who had disappeared, or to another +Chinaman who had been staying with him, we could not determine. At any +rate, we found no trace of Louey or his body.</p> + +<p>Even this was not to be the end of the strange series of fatalities to +Chinamen on the Sanford ranch. In 1897 I quit the Sanford foremanship +after working for my employer seventeen years, and turned the ranch over +to Amos Bloxton, another son-in-law of Sanford. I rented agricultural +land from Sanford and fell to farming. Near my place Crazy John, a +Chinaman, had his gardens, where he made 'dobe bricks besides growing +produce.</p> + +<p>We were living then in the old store building and the Chinaman was +making bricks about a quarter of a mile away with a Mexican whom he +employed. One day we found him dead and the Mexican gone. After that, as +was natural, we could never persuade a Chinaman to live anywhere near +the place. I later built a house of the bricks <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>the Chinaman was making +when he met his death. The Mexican escaped to Sonora, came back when he +thought the affair had blown over and went to work for the railroad at +Sonoita. There he had a fracas with the section foreman, stabbed him and +made off into the hills. Sheriff Wakefield from Tucson came down to get +the man and shot him dead near Greaterville, which ended the incident.</p> + +<p>In the preceding I have mentioned the railroad. This was the +Benson-Hermosillo road, built by the Santa Fe and later sold to the +Southern Pacific, which extended the line to San Blas in Coahuila, and +which is now in process of extending it further to the city of Tepic. I +was one of those who helped survey the original line from Benson to +Nogales—I think the date was 1883.</p> + +<p>In future times I venture to state that this road will be one of the +best-paying properties of the Southern Pacific Company, which has had +the courage and foresight to open up the immensely rich empire of +Western Mexico. The west coast of Mexico is yet in the baby stage of its +development. The revolutions have hindered progress there considerably, +but when peace comes at last and those <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>now shouldering arms for this +and that faction in the Republic return to the peaceful vocations they +owned before the war began, there is no doubt that the world will stand +astonished at the riches of this, at present, undeveloped country. There +are portions of the West Coast that have never been surveyed, that are +inhabited to this day with peaceful Indians who have seldom seen a white +face. The country is scattered with the ruins of wonderful temples and +cathedrals and, doubtless, much of the old Aztec treasure still lies +buried for some enterprising fortune-seeker to unearth. There are also +immense forests of cedar and mahogany and other hard woods to be cut; +and extensive areas of land suitable for sugar planting and other +farming to be brought under cultivation. When all this is opened up the +West Coast cannot help taking its place as a wonderfully rich and +productive region.</p> + +<p>FOOTNOTE:</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> The term "cowpuncher" is not common in Arizona as in +Montana, but the Arizona cowboys are sometimes called "vaqueros."</p></div> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /><a name="In" id="In"></a> +<br /> + +<hr /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +<br /> +<h2>IN AGE THE CRICKET CHIRPS AND BRINGS—</h2> +<br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>A faltering step on life's highway,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>A grip on the bottom rung;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>A few good deeds done here and there,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And my life's song is sung.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>It's not what you get in pelf that counts,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>It's not your time in the race,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For most of us draw the slower mounts,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And our deeds can't keep the pace.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>It's for each what he's done of kindness,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>And for each what he's done of cheer,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>That goes on the Maker's scorebook</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>With each succeeding year.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10 smcap">—Woon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>While I was farming on the Sanford ranch a brother-in-law of D. A. +Sanford, Frank Lawrence by name, came to live with me. Frank was a +splendid fellow and we were fast friends.</p> + +<p>One day during the Rodeo we were out where the vaqueros were working and +on our return found our home, a 'dobe house, burned down, and all our +belongings with it, including considerable provisions. My loss was +slight, for in those days I owned a prejudice against acquiring any more +worldly goods than I could with comfort pack on <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>my back; but Frank lost +a trunk containing several perfectly good suits of clothes and various +other more or less valuable articles which he set great store by, +besides over a hundred dollars in greenbacks. We hunted among the ruins, +of course, but not a vestige of anything savable did we find.</p> + +<p>Three days later, however, Sanford himself arrived and took one look at +the ruins. Then, without a word, he started poking about with his stick. +From underneath where his bed had been he dug up a little box containing +several hundred dollars in greenbacks, and from the earth beneath the +charred ruins of the chest of drawers he did likewise. Then he stood up +and laughed at us. I will admit that he had a perfect right to laugh. +He, the one man of the three of us who could best afford to lose +anything, was the only man whose money had been saved. Which only goes +to prove the proverbial luck of the rich man.</p> + +<p>Not long after this experience I moved to Crittenden, where I farmed +awhile, running buggy trips to the mines in the neighborhood as a side +line.</p> + +<p>One day a man named Wheeler, of Wheeler & Perry, a Tucson merchandise +establishment, came to Crittenden and I drove him out to Duquesne. On +the way Wheeler caught sight of a large fir-pine tree growing on the +slope of a hill. He pointed to it and said:</p> + +<p>"Say, John, I'd give something to have that tree in my house at +Christmas."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>It was then a week or so to the twenty-fifth of December.</p> + +<p>I glanced at the tree and asked him:</p> + +<p>"You would, eh? Now, about how much would you give?"</p> + +<p>"I'd give five dollars," he said.</p> + +<p>"Done!" I said. "You give me five dollars and count that tree yours for +Christmas!" And we shook hands on it.</p> + +<p>A few days later I rigged up a wagon, took along three Mexicans with +axes, and cut a load of Christmas trees—I think there were some three +hundred in the load. Then I drove the wagon to Tucson and after +delivering Wheeler his especial tree and receiving the stipulated five +dollars for it, commenced peddling the rest on the streets.</p> + +<p>And, say! Those Christmas trees sold like wildfire. Everybody wanted +one. I sold them for as low as six-bits and as high as five dollars, and +before I left pretty nearly everybody in Tucson owned one of my trees.</p> + +<p>When I counted up I found that my trip had netted me, over and above +expenses, just one thousand dollars.</p> + +<p>This, you will have to admit, was some profit for a load of Christmas +trees. Sad to relate, however, a year later when I tried to repeat the +performance, I found about forty other fellows ahead of me loaded to the +guards with Christmas trees of all kinds and sizes. For a time Christmas +trees were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>cheaper than mesquite brush as the overstocked crowd +endeavored to unload on an oversupplied town. I escaped with my outfit +and my life but no profits—that time.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>On December 15, 1900, I moved to Patagonia, which had just been born on +the wave of the copper boom. I rented a house, which I ran successfully +for one year, and then started the building of the first wing of the +Patagonia Hotel, which I still own and run; together with a dance-hall, +skating rink and restaurant. Since that first wing was built the hotel +has changed considerably in appearance, for whenever I got far enough +ahead to justify it, I built additions. I think I may say that now the +hotel is one of the best structures of its kind in the county. I am +considering the advisability of more additions, including a large +skating rink and dance-hall, but the copper situation does not justify +me in the outlay at present.</p> + +<p>I am entirely satisfied with my location, however. Patagonia is not a +large place, but it is full of congenial friends and will one day, when +the copper industry again finds its feet, be a large town. It is in the +very heart of the richest mining zone in the world, if the assayers are +to be believed. Some of the mining properties, now nearly all +temporarily closed down, are world-famous—I quote for example the Three +R., the World's Fair, the Flux, the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>Santa Cruz, the Hardshell, the +Harshaw, the Hermosa, the Montezuma, the Mansfield and the Mowry.</p> + +<p>This last, nine miles from Patagonia, was a producer long before the +Civil War. Lead and silver mined at the Mowry were transported to +Galveston to be made into bullets for the war—imagine being hit with a +silver bullet! In 1857 Sylvester Mowry, owner of the Mowry mine and one +of the earliest pioneers of Arizona, was chosen delegate to Congress by +petition of the people, but was not admitted to his seat. Mowry was +subsequently banished from Arizona by Commander Carleton and his mine +confiscated for reasons which were never quite clear.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>My purpose in writing these memoirs is two-fold: First, I desired that +my children should have a record which could be referred to by them +after I am gone; and, secondly, that the State of Arizona, my adopted +home, should be the richer for the possession of the facts I have at my +disposal.</p> + +<p>I want the reader to understand that even though the process of +evolution has taken a life-time, I cannot cease wondering at the +marvelous development of the Territory and, later, State of Arizona. +When I glance back over the vista of years and see the old, and then +open my eyes to survey the new, it is almost as though a Verne or a +Haggard sketch had come to life.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>Who, in an uneventful stop-over at Geronimo, Graham county, would +believe that these same old Indians who sit so peacefully mouthing their +cigarros at the trading store were the terrible Apaches of former +days—the same avenging demons who murdered emigrants, fought the +modernly-equipped soldier with bow and arrow, robbed and looted right +and left and finally were forced to give in to their greatest enemy, +Civilization. And who shall begin to conjecture the thoughts that now +and again pass through the brains of these old Apache relics, living now +so quietly on the bounty of a none-too-generous government? What dreams +of settlement massacres, of stage robberies, of desperate fights, they +may conjure up until the wheezy arrival of the Arizona Eastern +locomotive disperses their visions with the blast of sordid actuality!</p> + +<p>For the Arizona that I knew back in the Frontier days was the embodiment +of the Old West—the West of sudden fortune and still more sudden death; +the West of romance and of gold; of bad whiskey and doubtful women; of +the hardy prospector and the old cattleman, who must gaze a little sadly +back along the trail as they near the end of it, at thought of the days +that may never come again.</p> + +<p>And now I myself am reaching the end of my long and eventful journey, +and I can say, bringing to mind my youth and all that followed it, that +I have <i>lived</i>, really <i>lived</i>, and I am content.</p> +<br /> + +<p class="cen">THE END.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<div class="tr"> +<p class="cen"><a name="TN" id="TN"></a>Transcriber's Note</p> +<br /> + +Typographical errors corrected in the text:<br /> +<br /> +Page 80 recklesssly changed to recklessly<br /> +Page 82 Wickenberg changed to Wickenburg<br /> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Arizona's Yesterday, by +John H. 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Cady and Basil Dillon Woon + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Arizona's Yesterday + Being the Narrative of John H. Cady, Pioneer + +Author: John H. Cady + Basil Dillon Woon + +Release Date: May 3, 2009 [EBook #28670] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARIZONA'S YESTERDAY *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Kosker and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: JOHN H. CADY, 68 YEARS, SOLDIER OF FORTUNE, ON THE +SONOITA, DECEMBER, 1914] + + + + + ARIZONA'S YESTERDAY + + + + + BEING + + THE NARRATIVE OF + + JOHN H. CADY + + PIONEER + + + + + Rewritten and Revised by + + BASIL DILLON WOON + + 1915 + + + + + Copyright, 1916, + + By John H. Cady. + + + + + TO + + THE PIONEERS WHO ARE LIVING + + AND TO + + THE MEMORIES OF + THOSE WHO ARE DEAD + + _this book_, + + in affectionate tribute to the gallant courage, + rugged independence and wonderful endurance + of those adventurous souls who formed the + vanguard of civilization in the early history of + the Territory of Arizona and the remainder of + the Great West, + + _is dedicated_. + + JOHN H. CADY + BASIL D. WOON + + Patagonia, + Arizona, + Nineteen-Fifteen. + + + + +PREFACE + + +When I first broached the matter of writing his autobiography to John H. +Cady, two things had struck me particularly. One was that of all the +literature about Arizona there was little that attempted to give a +straight, chronological and _intimate_ description of events that +occurred during the early life of the Territory, and, second, that of +all the men I knew, Cady was best fitted, by reason of his extraordinary +experiences, remarkable memory for names and dates, and seniority in +pioneership, to supply the work that I felt lacking. + +Some years ago, when I first came West, I happened to be sitting on the +observation platform of a train bound for the orange groves of Southern +California. A lady with whom I had held some slight conversation on the +journey turned to me after we had left Tucson and had started on the +long and somewhat dreary journey across the desert that stretches from +the "Old Pueblo" to "San Berdoo," and said: + +"Do you know, I actually used to believe all those stories about the +'wildness of the West.' I see how badly I was mistaken." + +She had taken a half-hour stroll about Tucson while the train changed +crews and had been impressed by the--to the casual observer--sleepiness +of the ancient town. She told me that never again would she look on a +"wild West" moving picture without wanting to laugh. She would not +believe that there had ever been a "wild West"--at least, not in +Arizona. And yet it is history that the old Territory of Arizona in days +gone by was the "wildest and woolliest" of all the West, as any old +settler will testify. + +There is no doubt that to the tourist the West is now a source of +constant disappointment. The "movies" and certain literature have +educated the Easterner to the belief that even now Indians go on the +war-path occasionally, that even now cowboys sometimes find an outlet +for their exuberant spirits in the hair-raising sport of "shooting up +the town," and that even now battles between the law-abiding cattlemen +and the "rustlers" are more or less frequent. When these people come +west in their comfortable Pullmans and discover nothing more interesting +in the shape of Indians than a few old squaws selling trinkets and +blankets on station platforms, as at Yuma; when they visit one of the +famous old towns where in days gone by white men were wont to sleep with +one eye and an ear open for marauding Indians, and find electric cars, +modern office buildings, paved streets crowded with luxurious motors, +and the inhabitants nonchalantly pursuing the even tenor of their ways +garbed in habiliments strongly suggestive of Forty-fourth street and +Broadway; when they come West and note these signs of an advancing and +all-conquering civilization, I say, they invariably are disappointed. +One lady I met even thought "how delightful" it would be "if the Apaches +would only hold up the train!" It failed altogether to occur to her +that, in the days when wagon-trains _were_ held up by Apaches, few of +those in them escaped to tell the gruesome tale. And yet this estimable +lady, fresh from the drawing-rooms of Upper-Radcliffe-on-the-Hudson and +the ballroom of Rector's, thought how "delightful" this would be! Ah, +fortunate indeed is it that the pluck and persistence of the pioneers +carved a way of peace for the pilgrims of today! + +Considering the foregoing, such a book as this, presenting as it does in +readable form the Arizona West as it _really was_, is, in my opinion, +most opportune and fills a real need. The people have had fiction +stories from the capable pens of Stewart Edward White and his companions +in the realm of western literature, and have doubtless enjoyed their +refreshing atmosphere and daring originality, but, despite this, fiction +localized in the West and founded however-much on fact, does _not_ +supply all the needs of the Eastern reader, who demands the truth about +those old days, presented in a compact and _intimate_ form. I cannot too +greatly emphasize that word "intimate," for it signifies to me the +quality that has been most lacking in authoritative works on the Western +country. + +When I first met Captain Cady I found him the very personification of +what he ought not to have been, considering the fact that he is one of +the oldest pioneers in Arizona. Instead of peacefully awaiting the close +of a long and active career in some old soldiers' home, I found him +energetically superintending the hotel he owns at Patagonia, Santa Cruz +county--and with a badly burned hand, at that. There he was, with a +characteristic chef's top-dress on him (Cady is well known as a +first-class cook), standing behind the wood-fire range himself, +permitting no one else to do the cooking, allowing no one else to +shoulder the responsibilities that he, as a man decidedly in the autumn +of life, should by all the rules of the "game" have long since +relinquished. + +Where this grizzled old Indian fighter, near his three-score-and-ten, +should have been white-haired, he was but gray; where he should have +been inflicted with the kindred illnesses of advancing old age he simply +owned up, and sheepishly at that, to a burned hand. Where he should have +been willing to lay down his share of civic responsibility and let the +"young fellows" have a go at the game, he was as ever on the +firing-line, his name in the local paper a half-dozen times each week. +Oh, no, it is wrong to say that John H. Cady _was_ a fighter--wrong in +the spirit of it, for, you see, he is very much of a fighter, now. He +has lost not one whit of that aggressiveness and sterling courage that +he always has owned, the only difference being that, instead of fighting +Indians and bad men, he is now fighting the forces of evil within his +own town and contesting, as well, the grim advances made by the +relentless Reaper. + +In travels that have taken me over a good slice of Mother Earth, and +that have brought me into contact with all sorts and conditions of men, +I have never met one whose friendship I would rather have than that of +John H. Cady. If I were asked to sum him up I would say that he is a +_true_ man--a true father, a true and courageous fighter, and a true +American. He is a man anybody would far sooner have with him than +against him in a controversy. If so far as world-standards go he has not +achieved fame--I had rather call it "notoriety"--it is because of the +fact that the present-day standards do not fit the men whom they ignore. +With those other men who were the wet-nurses of the West in its +infantile civilization, this hardy pioneer should be honored by the +present generation and his name handed down to posterity as that of one +who fought the good fight of progress, and fought well, with weapons +which if perhaps crude and clumsy--as the age was crude and clumsy +judged by Twentieth Century standards--were at least most remarkably +effective. + +The subject of this autobiography has traveled to many out of the way +places and accomplished many remarkable things, but the most astonishing +thing about him is the casual and unaffected way in which he, in +retrospect, views his extraordinarily active life. He talks to me as +unconcernedly of tramping hundreds of miles across a barren desert +peopled with hostile Indians as though it were merely a street-car trip +up the thoroughfares of one of Arizona's progressive cities. He talks of +desperate rides through a wild and dangerous country, of little scraps, +as he terms them, with bands of murderous Apaches, of meteoric rises +from hired hand to ranch foreman, of adventurous expeditions into the +realm of trade when everything was a risk in a land of uncertainty, of +journeys through a foreign and wild country "dead broke"--of these and +many similar things, as though they were commonplace incidents scarcely +worthy of mention. + +Yet the story of Cady's life is, I venture to state, one of the most +gripping and interesting ever told, both from an historical and from a +human point of view. It illustrates vividly the varied fortunes +encountered by an adventurous pioneer of the old days in Arizona and +contains, besides, historical facts not before recorded that cannot help +making the work of unfailing interest to all who know, or wish to know, +the State. + +For you, then, reader, who love or wish to know the State of Arizona, +with its painted deserts, its glorious skies, its wonderful mountains, +its magical horizons, its illimitable distances, its romantic past and +its magnificent possibilities, this little book has been written. + + BASIL DILLON WOON. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + THE BOY SOLDIER 13 + + FOLLOWING THE ARGONAUTS 17 + + ROUGH AND TUMBLE ON LAND AND SEA 37 + + THROUGH MEXICO AND BACK TO ARIZONA 50 + + STAGE DRIVER'S LUCK 61 + + A FRONTIER BUSINESS MAN 71 + + VENTURES AND ADVENTURES 80 + + INDIAN WARFARE 92 + + DEPUTY SHERIFF, CATTLEMAN AND FARMER 102 + + IN AGE THE CRICKET CHIRPS AND BRINGS-- 115 + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + JOHN H. CADY Frontispiece + + OLD BARRACKS IN TUCSON 20 + + RUINS OF FORT BUCHANAN 28 + + CADY'S HOUSE ON THE SONOITA 44 + + RUINS OF FORT CRITTENDEN 60 + + THE OLD WARD HOMESTEAD 76 + + SHEEP CAMP ON THE SONOITA 92 + + CADY AND HIS FAMILY 108 + + + + +ARIZONA'S YESTERDAY + +THE BOY SOLDIER + + "_For the right that needs assistance, + For the wrong that needs resistance, + For the future in the distance, + And the good that they could do._" + + +Fourteen years before that broad, bloody line began to be drawn between +the North and the South of the "United States of America," before there +came the terrific clash of steel and muscle in front of which the entire +world retreated to a distance, horrified, amazed, fascinated and +confounded; before there came the dreadful day when families were +estranged and birthrights surrendered, loves sacrificed and the blight +of the bullet placed on hundreds of thousands of sturdy hearts--fourteen +years before this, on the banks of the mighty Ohio at Cincinnati, I was +born, on September 15, 1846. My parents were John N. Cady, of +Cincinnati, and Maria Clingman Cady, who was of German descent, and of +whom I remember little owing to the fact that she died when I reached my +third birthday. + +Ah, Cincinnati! To me you shall always be my City of Destiny, for it was +within your boundaries that I, boy and man, met my several fates. One +sent me through the turmoil and suffering of the Civil War; another sent +me westward mounted on the wings of youthful hope and ambition. For that +alone I am ever in the debt of Ohio's fairest city, which I hope to see +again some day before there sounds for me the Taps.... But I do not +know. The tide of life is more than past its ebb for me and I should be +thinking more of a quiet rest on the hillside, my face turned to the +turquoise blue of Arizona's matchless infinity, than to the treading +again of noisy city streets in the country of my birth. + +But this is to be a story of Arizona, and I must hasten through the +events that occurred prior to my leaving for the West. When I had +reached three years of age my father married again--a milliner--and +moved to Philadelphia. My grandmother, who had raised me practically +from birth, removed with me to Maysville in Kentucky, where I was sent +to school. Some of my pleasantest memories now are of that period in the +old-fashioned Kentucky river town. + +Just after my ninth birthday my father came back to Maysville, claimed +me, took me to Philadelphia with him and afterwards turned me over to +one William Turner, his wife's brother, who was the owner of a farm on +the eastern shore of Maryland. I stayed at the Turner farm until the +outbreak of the Civil War in the fall of '61, when my father, who was +then working for Devlin & Son, clothiers, with headquarters at Broadway +and Warren streets, New York City, enlisted in Duryea's Zouaves as +orderly sergeant in Company K. The Zouaves wintered at Federal Hill, +Baltimore, and I joined my father and the regiment there. In the spring +we moved to Washington, joining there the great Army of the Potomac, +with which we stayed during that army's succession of magnificent +battles, until after the Fredericksburg fight in '63. + +In Washington we were quartered at Arlington Heights and I remember that +I used to make pocket money by buying papers at the Washington railway +depot and selling them on the Heights. The papers were, of course, full +of nothing but war news, some of them owing their initial publication to +the war, so great was the public's natural desire for news of the +titanic struggle that was engulfing the continent. Then, as now, there +were many conflicting statements as to the movements of troops, and so +forth, but the war correspondents had full rein to write as they +pleased, and the efforts of some of them stand out in my memory today as +marvels of word-painting and penned rhetoric. + +When Grant took command of the Army of the Potomac I left the army, +three or four days before reinforcements for General Sherman, who was +then making preparations for his famous "march to the sea," left for +Kentucky. At Aguire Creek, near Washington, I purchased a cargo of +apples for $900--my first of two exceedingly profitable ventures in the +apple-selling industry--and, after selling them at a handsome profit, +followed Sherman's reinforcements as far as Cincinnati. I did not at +this time stay long in the city of my birth, going in a few days to Camp +Nelson, Ky., where I obtained work driving artillery horses to Atlanta +and bringing back to Chattanooga condemned army stock. Even at that +time--1864--the proud old city of Atlanta felt the shadow of its +impending doom, but few believed Sherman would go to the lengths he did. + +After the close of the war in 1865 I enlisted in Cincinnati, on October +12, in the California Rocky Mountain service. Before this, however, I +had shipped in the Ram Vindicator of the Mississippi Squadron and after +being transferred to the gunboat Syren had helped move the navy yard +from Mound City, Ill., to Jefferson Barracks, St. Louis, Mo., where it +still is. + +I was drafted in the First United States Cavalry and sent to Carlisle +Barracks in Pennsylvania, from which place I traveled to New Orleans, +where I joined my regiment. I was allotted to Company C and remember my +officers to have been Captain Dean, First Lieutenant Vail and Second +Lieutenant Winters. Soon after my arrival in New Orleans we commenced +our journey to California, then the golden country of every man's dreams +and the Mecca of every man's ambition. + + + + +FOLLOWING THE ARGONAUTS + + _So it's Westward Ho! for the land of worth, + Where the "is," not "was" is vital; + Where brawn for praise must win the earth, + Nor risk its new-born title. + Where to damn a man is to say he ran, + And heedless seeds are sown, + Where the thrill of strife is the spice of life, + And the creed is "GUARD YOUR OWN!"_ + --WOON. + + +When the fast mail steamer which had carried us from the Isthmus of +Panama (we had journeyed to the Isthmus from New Orleans in the little +transport McClellan), steamed through the Golden Gate and anchored off +the Presidio I looked with great eagerness and curiosity on the +wonderful city known in those days as "the toughest hole on earth," of +which I had read and heard so much and which I had so longed to see. I +saw a city rising on terraces from the smooth waters of a glorious bay +whose wavelets were tempered by a sunshine that was as brilliant as it +was ineffective against the keen sea-breeze of winter. The fog that had +obscured our sight outside the Golden Gate was now gone--vanished like +the mist-wraiths of the long-ago philosophers, and the glorious city of +San Francisco was revealed to view. + +I say "glorious," but the term must be understood to apply only to the +city's surroundings, which were in truth magnificent. She looked like +some imperial goddess, her forehead encircled by the faint band of mist +that still lingered caressingly to the mountain tops, her countenance +glistening with the dew on the green hill-slopes, her garments quaintly +fashioned for her by the civilization that had brought her into being, +her slippers the lustrous waters of the Bay itself. Later I came to know +that she, too, was a goddess of moods, and dangerous moods; a coquette +to some, a love to others, and to many a heartless vampire that sucked +from them their hard-wrung dust, scattered their gold to the four winds +of avarice that ever circled enticingly about the vortex of shallow joys +that the City harbored, and, after intoxicating them with her beauty and +her wine, flung them aside to make ready for the next comer. Too well +had San Francisco merited the title I give it in the opening lines of +this chapter. Some say that the earthquake and the fire came like +vitriol cast on the features of a beautiful woman for the prostitution +of her charms; but I, who lost little to her lures, am not one to judge. + +My memories of San Francisco are at any rate a trifle hazy now, for it +is many, many years since I last saw the sun set over the Marin hills. +An era has passed since the glamour of the Coast of High Barbaree +claimed my youthful attention. But I remember a city as evil within as +it was lovely without, a city where were gathered the very dregs of +humanity from the four corners of the earth. What Port Said is now, San +Francisco was then, only worse. For every crime that is committed in the +dark alleys of the Suez port or the equally murky callejons of the +pestholes of Mexico, four were committed in the beautiful Californian +town when I first went there. Women as well as men carried "hardware" +strapped outside, and scarcely one who had not at some time found this +precaution useful. The city abounded with footpads and ruffians of every +nationality and description, whose prices for cutting a throat or +"rolling a stiff" depended on the cupidity of the moment or on the +quantity of liquor their capacious stomachs held. Scores of killings +occurred and excited little comment. + +Thousands of men were daily passing in and out of the city, drawn by the +lure of the Sierra gold-fields; some of these came back with the joy of +dreams come true and full pokes hung around their necks, some came with +the misery of utter failure in their hearts, and some--alas, they were +many, returned not at all. + +The Barbary Coast was fast gaining for itself an unenviable reputation +throughout the world. Every time one walked on Pacific street with any +money in pocket he took his life in his hand. _"Guard Your Own!"_ +was the accepted creed of the time and woe to him who could not do so. +Gold was thrown about like water. The dancing girls made fabulous sums +as commissions on drinks their consorts could be persuaded to buy. +Hundreds of thousands of dollars were spent nightly in the great temples +devoted to gambling, and there men risked on the luck of a moment or the +turn of a painted wheel fortunes wrung from the soil by months and +sometimes years of terrific work in the diggings. The most famous +gamblers of the West at that time made their headquarters in San +Francisco, and they came from all countries. England contributed not a +few of these gentlemen traders in the caprices of fortune, France her +quota, Germany very few and China many; but these last possessed the +dives, the lowest kind of gambling places, where men went only when they +were desperate and did not care. + +We were not at this time, however, to be given an opportunity to see as +much of San Francisco as most of us would have liked. After a short stay +at the Presidio we were sent to Wilmington, then a small port in the +southern part of the State but now incorporated in the great city of Los +Angeles. Here we drew our horses for the long trek across the desert to +our future home in the Territory of Arizona. There was no railroad at +that time in California, the line not even having been surveyed as far +as San Jose, which was already a city but, instead of being, as now, the +market-place for a dozen fertile and beautiful valleys, she was then +merely an outfitting point for parties of travelers, prospectors, +cattlemen and the like, and was also a station and terminus for +various stage lines. + +[Illustration: OLD BARRACKS (1912) ON NORTH SIDE OF ALAMEDA STREET, NEAR +MAIN, WHERE Co. C, 1st U. S. CAVALRY, CAMPED IN 1866 ON ITS ARRIVAL IN +TUCSON] + +Through San Jose, too, came those of the gold-seekers, bound for the +high Sierras on the border of the desert, who had not taken the +Sacramento River route and had decided to brave instead the dangers of +the trail through the fertile San Joaquin, up to the Feather River and +thus into the diggings about Virginia City. Gold had been found by that +time in Nevada and hundreds of intrepid men were facing the awful Mojave +and Nevada deserts, blazing hot in day-time and icy cold at night, to +seek the new Eldorados. Since this is a book about pioneers, and since I +am one of them, it is fitting to stay awhile and consider what +civilization owes to these daring souls who formed the vanguard of her +army. Cecil Rhodes opened an Empire by mobilizing a black race; Jim Hill +opened another when he struck westward with steel rails. But the +pioneers of the early gold rushes created an empire of immense riches +with no other aid than their own gnarled hands and sturdy hearts. They +opened up a country as vast as it was rich, and wrested from the very +bosom of Mother Earth treasures that had been in her jealous keeping for +ages before the era of Man. They braved sudden death, death from thirst +and starvation, death from prowling savages, death from the wild +creatures,--all that the works of man might flourish where they had not +feared to tread. It is the irony of fate that these old pioneers, many +of whom hated civilization and were fleeing from her guiles, should have +been the advance-guard of the very Power they sought to avoid. + +The vast empire of Western America is strewn with the bones of these +men. Some of them lie in kindly resting places, the grass over their +graves kept green by loving friends; some lie uncared for in potters' +fields or in the cemeteries of homes for the aged, and some--a vast +horde--still lie bleached and grim, the hot sand drifted over them by +the desert winds. + +But, wherever they lie, all honor to the pioneer! There should be a day +set apart on which every American should revere the memory of those men +of long ago who hewed the way for the soft paths that fall to the +generation of today. + +What San Bernardino is now to the west-bound traveler, Wilmington was +then--the end of the desert. From Wilmington eastward stretched one +tremendous ocean of sand, interspersed here and there by majestic +mountains in the fastnesses of which little fertile valleys with clear +mountain streams were to be discovered later by the pioneer +homesteaders. Where now are miles upon miles of yellow-fruited orange +and lemon groves, betraying the care and knowledge of a later generation +of scientific farmers, were then only dreary, barren wastes, with only +the mountains and clumps of sagebrush, soapweed, cacti, creosote bushes +and mesquite to break the everlasting monotony of the prospect. + +Farming then, indeed, was almost as little thought of as irrigation, for +men's minds were fixed on the star of whitest brilliancy--_Gold_. Men +even made fortunes in the diggings and returned East and bought farms, +never realizing that what might be pushed above the soil of California +was destined to prove of far greater consequence than anything men would +ever find hidden beneath. + +The march to Arizona was both difficult and dangerous, and was to be +attempted safely only by large parties. Water was scarce and wells few +and far between, and there were several stretches as, for instance, that +between what are now known as the Imperial Mountains and Yuma, of more +than sixty miles with no water at all. The well at Dos Palmas was not +dug until a later date. Across these stretches the traveler had to +depend on what water he could manage to pack in a canteen strung around +his waist or on his horse or mule. On the march were often to be seen, +as they are still, those wonderful desert mirages of which so much has +been written by explorers and scientists. Sometimes these took the form +of lakes, fringed with palms, which tantalized and ever kept mockingly +at a distance. Many the desert traveler who has been cruelly deceived by +these mirages! + +Yuma, of which I have just spoken, is famed for many reasons. For one +thing, the story that United States army officers "raised the +temperature of the place thirty degrees" to be relieved from duty there, +has been laughed at wherever Americans have been wont to congregate. And +that old story told by Sherman, of the soldier who died at Yuma after +living a particularly vicious existence here below, and who soon +afterwards telegraphed from Hades for his blankets, has also done much +to heighten the reputation of the little city, which sometimes still has +applied to it the distinction of being the hottest place in the United +States. This, however, is scarcely correct, as many places in the +Southwest--Needles in California, and the Imperial Valley are +examples--have often demonstrated higher temperatures than have ever +been known at Yuma. A summer at the little Colorado River town is quite +hot enough, however, to please the most tropical savage. It may be +remarked here, in justice to the rest of the State, that the temperature +of Yuma is not typical of Arizona as a whole. In the region I now live +in--the Sonoita Valley in the southeastern part of the State, and in +portions around Prescott, the summer temperatures are markedly cool and +temperate. + +Yuma, however, is not famed for its temperature alone; in fact, that +feature of its claim to notice is least to be considered. The real +noteworthy fact about Yuma from a historical point of view is that, as +Arizona City, it was one of the earliest-settled points in the Territory +and was at first easily the most important. The route of the major +portion of the Forty-Niners took them across the Colorado River where +Fort Yuma was situated on the California side; and the trend of +exploration, business and commerce a few years later flowed westward to +Yuma over the picturesque plains of the Gadsden Purchase. The famous +California Column ferried itself across the Colorado at Yuma, and later +on the Overland Mail came through the settlement. It is now a division +point on the Southern Pacific Railway, just across the line from +California, and has a population of three or four thousand. + +At the time I first saw the place there was only Fort Yuma, on the +California side of the river, and a small settlement on the Arizona side +called Arizona City. It had formerly been called Colorado City, but the +name was changed when the town was permanently settled. There were two +ferries in operation at Yuma when our company arrived there, one of them +run by the peaceable Yuma Indians and the other by a company headed by +Don Diego Jaeger and Hartshorne. Fort Yuma had been established in 1851 +by Major Heintzelman, U.S.A., but owing to scurvy (see De Long's history +of Arizona) and the great difficulty in getting supplies, the Colorado +River being then uncharted for traffic, it was abandoned and not +permanently re-established until a year later, when Major Heintzelman +returned from San Diego. The townsite of Colorado City was laid out in +1854, but floods wiped out the town with the result that a permanent +settlement, called Arizona City, was not established until about 1862, +four years before I reached there. + +The first steamboat to reach Yuma with supplies was the Uncle Sam, which +arrived in 1852. Of all this I can tell, of course, only by hearsay, but +there is no doubt that the successful voyage of the Uncle Sam to Yuma +established the importance of that place and gave it pre-eminence over +any other shipping point into the territories for a long time. + +Until the coming of the railroad, supplies for Arizona were shipped from +San Francisco to the mouth of the Colorado and ferried from there up the +river to Yuma, being there transferred to long wagon trains which +traveled across the plains to Tucson, which was then the distributing +point for the whole Territory. + +Tucson was, of course, the chief city. I say "city" only in courtesy, +for it was such in importance only, its size being smaller than an +ordinary eastern village. Prescott, which was the first Territorial +Capital; Tubac, considered by many the oldest settled town in Arizona, +near which the famous mines worked by Sylvester Mowry were located; +Ehrenberg, an important stage point; Sacaton, in the Pima and Maricopa +Indian country, and other small settlements such as Apache Pass, which +was a fort, were already in existence. The Gadsden Purchase having been +of very recent date, most of the population was Indian, after which came +the Mexicans and Spaniards and then the Americans, who arrogantly +termed themselves the Whites, although the Spaniards possessed fully as +white a complexion as the average pioneer from the eastern states. Until +recently the Indian dominated the white man in Arizona in point of +numbers, but fortunately only one Indian race--the Apache--showed +unrelenting hostility to the white man and his works. Had all the +Arizona Indians been as hostile as were the Apaches, the probabilities +are that the settlement of Arizona by the whites would have been of far +more recent date, for in instance after instance the Americans in +Arizona were obliged to rely on the help of the peaceful Indians to +combat the rapacious Apaches. + +Yuma is the place where the infamous "Doc" Glanton and his gang +operated. This was long before my time, and as the province of this book +is merely to tell the story of life in the Territory as I saw it, it has +no place within these pages. It may, however, be mentioned that Glanton +was the leader of a notorious gang of freebooters who established a +ferry across the Colorado at Yuma and used it as a hold-up scheme to +trap unwary emigrants. The Yuma Indians also operated a ferry, for which +they had hired as pilot a white man, whom some asserted to have been a +deserter from the United States army. One day Glanton and his gang, +angered at the successful rivalry of the Indians, fell on them and slew +the pilot. The Glanton gang was subsequently wiped out by the Indians in +retaliation. + +When the Gila City gold rush set in Yuma was the point to which the +adventurers came to reach the new city. I have heard that as many as +three thousand gold seekers congregated at this find, but nothing is now +to be seen of the former town but a few old deserted shacks and some +Indian wickiups. Gold is still occasionally found in small quantities +along the Gila River near this point, but the immense placer deposits +have long since disappeared, although experts have been quoted as saying +that the company brave enough to explore the fastnesses of the mountains +back of the Gila at this point will probably be rewarded by finding rich +gold mines. + +I will not dwell on the hardships of that desert march from Yuma to +Tucson, for which the rigors of the Civil War had fortunately prepared +most of us, further than to say that it was many long, weary days before +we finally came in sight of the "Old Pueblo." In Tucson I became, soon +after our arrival, twenty years old. I was a fairly hardy youngster, +too. We camped in Tucson on a piece of ground in the center of the town +and soon after our arrival were set to work making a clean, orderly +camp-park out of the wilderness of creosote bushes and mesquite. I +remember that for some offence against the powers of the day I was then +"serving time" for a short while and, among other things, I cut shrub on +the site of Tucson's Military Plaza, with an inelegant piece of iron +chain dangling uncomfortably from my left leg. Oh, I wasn't a saint +in those days any more than I am a particularly bright candidate for +wings and a harp now! I gave my superior officers fully as much trouble +as the rest of 'em! + +[Illustration: RUINS OF OLD FORT BUCHANAN, DECEMBER 7, 1914] + +Tucson's Military Plaza, it may be mentioned here, was, as stated, +cleared by Company C, First United States Cavalry, and that body of +troops was the only lot of soldiery that ever camped on that spot, which +is now historic. In after years it was known as Camp Lowell, and that +name is still applied to a fort some seven miles east of Tucson. + +Captain Dean had not come with us to Arizona, having been taken ill in +California and invalided home. Lieutenant Vail, or, as he was entitled +to be called, Brevet-Major Vail, commanded Company C in his absence, and +he had under him as fearless a set of men as could have been found +anywhere in the country in those days. Vail himself was the highest type +of officer--stern and unbending where discipline was concerned, and +eminently courageous. Second Lieutenant Winters was a man of the same +stamp, and both men became well known in the Territory within a few +months after their arrival because of their numerous and successful +forays against marauding Indians. Vail is alive yet, or was a short time +ago. + +After some weeks in Tucson, which was then a typical western town +peopled by miners, assayers, surveyors, tradespeople, a stray banker or +two and, last but not least by any means, gamblers, we were moved to +old Camp Grant, which was situated several hundred yards downstream from +the point where the Aravaipa Creek runs into the San Pedro. + +Among others whom I remember as living in Tucson or near neighborhood in +1866 were: + + Henry Glassman, + Tom Yerkes, + Lord & Williams, + Pete Kitchen, + ---- Tongue, + The Kelsey boys, + Sandy McClatchy, + Green Rusk, + Frank Hodge, + Alex. Levin, + Bob Crandall, + ---- Wheat, + Smith Turner, + "Old" Pike. + +Glassman lived most of the time at Tubac. Yerkes owned the Settlers +Store in Tubac. Lord and Williams owned the chief store in Tucson and +were agents for the United States Mail. Pete Kitchen was at Potrero +Ranch; but Pete, who was more feared by the Indians than any white man +in the Territory, deserves a whole chapter to himself. Tongue was a +storekeeper. Green Rusk owned a popular dance house. Hodge and Levin had +a saloon. Wheat owned a saloon and afterwards a ranch near Florence. The +remainder were mostly gamblers, good fellows, every one of them. "Old +Pike" especially was a character whose memory is now fondly cherished by +every pioneer who knew him. He could win or lose with the same perpetual +joviality, but he generally won. The principal gambling game in those +days was Mexican monte, played with forty cards. Poker was also played a +great deal. Keno, faro and roulette were not introduced until later, +and the same may be said of pangingi, the Scandinavian game. + +There were several tribes of Apaches wintering at Camp Grant the winter +we went there, if I remember correctly, among them being the Tontos and +Aravaipas. All of them, however, were under the authority of one +chief--Old Eskiminzin, one of the most blood-thirsty and vindictive of +all the old Apache leaders. The Government fed these Apaches well during +the winter in return for pledges they made to keep the peace. This was +due to the altruism of some mistaken gentlemen in the councils of +authority in the East, who knew nothing of conditions in the Territory +and who wrongly believed that the word of an Apache Indian would hold +good. We, who knew the Indian, understood differently, but we were +obliged to obey orders, even though these were responsible in part for +the many Indian tragedies that followed. + +The Apache was a curious character. By nature a nomad, by temperament a +fighter, and from birth a hater of the white man, he saw nothing good in +the ways of civilization except that which fed him, and he took that +only as a means to an end. Often an Indian chief would solemnly swear to +keep the peace with his "white brethren" for a period of months, and the +next day go forth on a marauding expedition and kill as many of his +beloved "brethren" as he could lay his hands on. Every dead white man +was a feather in some Apache's headdress, for so they regarded it. + +One day Chief Eskiminzin appeared with a protest from the tribes against +the quality of the rations they were receiving. It was early spring and +the protest, as we well knew, was merely his way of saying that the +Indians were no longer dependent on what the government offered but +could now hunt their own meat. Our commanding officer endeavored to +placate the old chief, who went back for a conference with his men. Then +he re-appeared, threw down his rations, the others doing the same, and +in a few minutes the entire encampment of Apaches was in the saddle. + +Some little time after they had gone Lieutenant Vail, suspecting +trouble, sent a man down the trail to investigate. A few miles away was +a ranch owned by a man named Israels. The scout found the ranch +devastated, with Israels, his wife and family brutally slain and all the +stock driven off. He reported to Vail, who headed an expedition of +retaliation--the first I ever set forth on. We trailed the Indians +several days, finally coming up with them and in a pitched battle +killing many of them. + +This was just a sample of the many similar incidents that occurred from +time to time throughout the Territory. Invariably the Military attempted +to find the raiders, and sometimes they were successful. But it seemed +impossible to teach the Apaches their lesson, and even now there are +sometimes simmerings of discontent among the surviving Apaches on their +reservation. They find it difficult to believe that their day and the +day of the remainder of the savage Indian race is gone forever. + +It was during this stay at Fort Grant that Company C was ordered to +escort the first Southern Pacific survey from Apache Pass, which was a +government fort, to Sacaton, in the Pima Indian country. The route +abounded with hostile Apaches and was considered extremely dangerous. I +have mentioned this as the "first Southern Pacific survey," but this +does not mean that there were not before that other surveys of a similar +character, looking to the establishment of a transcontinental railroad +route through the Territory. As early as 1851 a survey was made across +Northern Arizona by Captain L. Sitgreaves, approximating nearly the +present route of the Santa Fe Railway. A year or two later Lieutenant A. +W. Whipple made a survey along the line of the 35th degree parallel. +Still later Lieutenant J. G. Parke surveyed a line nearly on that of the +Southern Pacific survey. At that time, just before the Gadsden treaty, +the territory surveyed was in the republic of Mexico. These surveys were +all made by order of the then Secretary of War, Jefferson Davis, who +aroused a storm of protest in the East against his "misguided attention +to the desolate West." But few statesmen and fewer of the outside public +in that day possessed the prophetic vision to perceive the future +greatness of what were termed the "arid wastes" of Arizona and +California. This was shown by the perfect hail of protest that swept to +the White House when the terms of the Gadsden Treaty, drawn up by a man +who as minister to a great minor republic had had ample opportunities to +study at his leisure the nature of the country and the people with whom +he dealt, became known. + +This Southern Pacific survey party was under the superintendence of +Chief Engineer Iego--I believe that is the way he spelled his name--who +was recognized as one of the foremost men in his line in the country. +The size of our party, which included thirty surveyors and surveyors' +helpers in addition to the soldier escort, served to deter the Indians, +and we had no trouble that I remember. It is perhaps worthy of note that +the railroad, as it was afterwards built--it reached Tucson in 1880--did +not exactly follow the line of this survey, not touching at Sacaton. It +passed a few miles south of that point, near the famous Casa Grande, +where now is a considerable town. + +Railroad and all other surveying then was an exceedingly hazardous job, +especially in Arizona, where so many Indian massacres had already +occurred and were still to occur. In fact, any kind of a venture that +involved traveling, even for a short distance, whether it was a small +prospecting or emigrant's outfit or whether it was a long "train on +hoofs," laden with goods of the utmost value, had to be escorted by a +squad of soldiers, and often by an entire company. Even thus protected, +frequent and daring raids were made by the cruel and fearless savages, +whose only dread seemed to be starvation and the on-coming of the white +man, and who would go to any lengths to get food. + +Looking back in the light of present day reasoning, I am bound to say +that it would be wrong to blame the Apaches for something their savage +and untutored natures could not help. Before the "paleface" came to the +Territory the Indian was lord of all he surveyed, from the peaks of the +mountains down to the distant line of the silvery horizon. He was +monarch of the desert and could roam over his demesne without +interference save from hostile tribes; and into his very being there was +born naturally a spirit of freedom which the white man with all his +weapons could never kill. He knew the best hunting grounds, he knew +where grew excellent fodder for his horses, he knew where water ran the +year around, and in the rainy season he knew where the waterholes were +to be found. In his wild life there was only the religion of living, and +the divinity of Freedom. + +When the white man came he, too, found the fertile places, the running +water and the hunting grounds, and he confiscated them in the name of a +higher civilization of which the savage knew nothing and desired to know +less. Could the Indian then be blamed for his overwhelming hatred of the +white man? His was the inferior, the barbaric race, to be sure, but +could he be blamed for not believing so? His was a fight against +civilization, true, and it was a losing fight as all such are bound to +be, but the Indian did not know what civilization was except that it +meant that he was to be robbed of his hunting grounds and stripped of +his heritage of freedom. Therefore he fought tirelessly, savagely, +demoniacally, the inroads of the white man into his territory. All that +he knew, all that he wished to understand, was that he had been free and +happy before the white man had come with his thunder-weapons, his +fire-water and his mad, mad passion for yellow gold. The Indian could +not understand or admit that the White was the superior, all-conquering +race, and, not understanding, he became hostile and a battling demon. + + So intense was the hatred of the white man among the Apaches + of the period of which I speak that it was their custom to + cut off the noses of any one of their women caught in illegal + intercourse with a white man. This done, she was driven from + her tribe, declared an outcast from her people, and + frequently starved to death. I can remember many instances of + this exact kind. + + + + +ROUGH AND TUMBLE ON LAND AND SEA + + "_'Twas youth, my friend, and joyfulness besides, + That made me breast the treachery of Neptune's fickle tides._" + + +When Spring came around in the year 1867 we were moved to Tubac, where +we were joined by K Company of my regiment and C Company of the +Thirty-Second Infantry. Tubac, considered by some to be the oldest town +in Arizona, before the consummation of the Gadsden Treaty was a military +post at which the republic of Mexico regularly kept a small garrison. It +was situated on the Santa Cruz River, which at this point generally had +considerable water in it. This was probably the reason for the +establishment of the town, for water has always been the controlling +factor in a settlement's progress in Arizona. The river is dry at Tubac +now, however, except in unusually rainy seasons, irrigation and cattle +having robbed the stream of its former volume. + +At the time we were quartered there Tubac was a place of no small +importance, and after Tucson and Prescott were discounted it was +probably the largest settlement in the Territory. Patagonia has now +taken the position formerly occupied by the old adobe town as center of +the rich mining zone of Southern Arizona, and the glories of Tubac (if +they can be given that name) are, like the glories of Tombstone, gone. +Unlike those of Tombstone, however, they are probably gone forever. +Tombstone may yet rise from the ashes of her splendid past to a future +as one of the important towns of the Southwest, if the stories of untold +riches near by her are to be believed. + +A little to the east of Tubac and separating that town from Patagonia is +Mount Wrightson, one of the highest mountains in Arizona. Nicknamed "Old +Baldy" after its famous namesake in California, this mammoth pile of +rock and copper was in the old days a landmark for travelers, visible +sometimes for days ahead on the wagon trails. It presaged near arrival +in Tucson, for in a direct line Old Baldy is probably not further than +forty miles from the Old Pueblo. + +We camped at Tubac during the summer and part of the winter of 1867 and +I remember that while we were there I cooked a reception banquet to +Colonel Richard C. McCormick, who was then and until 1869 Governor of +the Territory of Arizona. I forget his business in Tubac, but it was +either an electioneering trip or one of inspection after his appointment +to the office of Governor in 1866. + +In the early part of 1868 we moved to Fort Buchanan, which before the +war had been a military post of considerable importance. It received its +name from the President before Lincoln and was garrisoned by +Confederates during the Civil War. We re-built the fort and re-named it +Fort Crittenden, in honor of General Thomas L. Crittenden, a son of the +Hon. John J. Crittenden of Kentucky, who was then in command of the +military district embracing that portion of the Territory south of the +Gila River. Crittenden was beautifully situated on the Sonoita, about +ten miles from where I now live and in the midst of some of the most +marvelously beautiful scenery to be found on the American continent. +Fort Crittenden is no longer occupied and has not been for some time; +but a short distance toward Benson is Fort Huachuaca, where at present a +garrison of the Ninth Cavalry is quartered. + +During part of 1868 I carried mail from where Calabasas is now--it was +then Fort Mason--to Fort Crittenden, a proceeding emphatically not as +simple as it may sound. My way lay over a mountainous part of what is +now Santa Cruz county, a district which at that time, on account of the +excellent fodder and water, abounded with hostile Indians. + +On one occasion that I well remember I had reached the waterhole over +which is now the first railroad bridge north of Patagonia, about a half +mile from the present town, and had stopped there to water my horse. +While the animal was drinking I struck a match to light my pipe--and +instantly I ducked. A bullet whistled over my head, near enough to give +me a strong premonition that a couple of inches closer would have meant +my end. I seized the bridle of my horse, leaped on his back, bent low +over the saddle and rode for it. I escaped, but it is positive in my +mind today that if those Apaches had been better accustomed to the use +of the white man's weapons I would not now be alive to tell the story. + +I was a great gambler, even in those days. It was the fashion, then, to +gamble. Everybody except the priests and parsons gambled, and there was +a scarcity of priests and parsons in the sixties. Men would gamble their +dust, and when that was gone they would gamble their worldly +possessions, and when those had vanished they would gamble their +clothes, and if they lost their clothes there were instances where some +men even went so far as to gamble their wives! And every one of us, each +day, gambled his life, so you see the whole life in the Territory in the +early days was one continuous gamble. Nobody save gamblers came out +there, because nobody but gamblers would take the chance. + +As I have stated, I followed the natural trend. I had a name, even in +those days, of being one of the most spirited gamblers in the regiment, +and that meant the countryside; and I confess it today without shame, +although it is some time now since I raised an ante. I remember one +occasion when my talents for games of chance turned out rather +peculiarly. We had gone to Calabasas to get a load of wheat from a store +owned by a man named Richardson, who had been a Colonel in the volunteer +service. Richardson had as manager of the store a fellow named Long, +who was well known for his passion for gambling. After we had given our +order we sought about for some diversion to make the time pass, and Long +caught sight of the goatskin chaperejos I was wearing. He stared at them +enviously for a minute and then proposed to buy them. + +"They're not for sale," said I, "but if you like I'll play you for 'em." + +"Done!" said Long, and put up sixteen dollars against the chaps. + +Now, Long was a game sport, but that didn't make him lucky. I won his +sixteen dollars and then he bet me some whiskey against the lot, and +again I won. By the time I had beat him five or six times, had won a +good half of the store's contents, and was proposing to play him for his +share in the store itself, he cried quits. We loaded our plunder on the +wagon. Near Bloxton, or where Bloxton now is, four miles west of +Patagonia, we managed to upset the wagon, and half the whiskey and wheat +never was retrieved. We had the wherewithal to "fix things" with the +officers, however, and went unreproved, even making a tidy profit +selling what stuff we had left to the soldiers. + +At that time the company maintained gardens on a part of what afterwards +was the Sanford Rancho, and at one time during 1868 I was gardening +there with three others. The gardens were on a ranch owned by William +Morgan, a discharged sergeant of our company. Morgan had one Mexican +working for him and there were four of us from the Fort stationed there +to cultivate the gardens and keep him company--more for the latter +reason than the first, I believe. We took turn and turn about of one +month at the Fort and one month at the gardens, which were about +fourteen miles from the Fort. + +One of us was Private White, of Company K. He was a mighty fine young +fellow, and we all liked him. Early one morning the five of us were +eating breakfast in the cabin, an illustration of which is given, and +White went outside for something. Soon afterward we heard several +reports, but, figuring that White had shot at some animal or other, we +did not even get up from our meal. Finally came another shot, and then +another, and Morgan got up and peered from the door. He gave a cry. + +"Apaches!" he shouted. "They're all around! Poor White----" + +It was nip-and-tuck then. For hours we kept up a steady fire at the +Indians, who circled the house with blood-curdling whoops. We killed a +number of them before they finally took themselves off. Then we went +forth to look for White. We found our comrade lying on his back a short +distance away, his eyes staring unseeingly to the sky. He was dead. We +carried him to the house and discussed the situation. + +"They'll come back," said Morgan, with conviction. + +"Then it's up to one of us to ride to the Fort," I said. + +But Morgan shook his head. + +"There isn't a horse anywhere near," he said. + +We had an old army mule working on the gardens and I bethought myself of +him. + +"There's the mule," I suggested. + +My companions were silent. That mule was the slowest creature in +Arizona, I firmly believed. It was as much as he could do to walk, let +alone gallop. + +"Somebody's got to go, or we'll all be killed," I said. "Let's draw +lots." + +They agreed and we found five straws, one of them shorter than the rest. +These we drew, and the short one fell to me. + +I look back on that desperate ride now with feelings akin to horror. +Surrounded with murderous savages, with only a decrepit mule to ride and +fourteen miles to go, it seemed impossible that I could get through +safely. My companions said good-bye to me as though I were a scaffold +victim about to be executed. But get through I did--how I do not +know--and the chillingly weird war-calls of the Indians howling at me +from the hills as I rode return to my ears even now with extraordinary +vividness. + +And, as Morgan had prophesied, the Apaches did "come back." It was a +month later, and I had been transferred back to the Fort, when a nephew +of Colonel Dunkelberger and William J. Osborn of Tucson were riding +near Morgan's ranch. Apaches ambushed them, slew the Colonel's nephew, +whose name has slipped my memory, and wounded Osborn. The latter, who +was a person of considerable importance in the Territory, escaped to +Morgan's ranch. An expedition of retaliation was immediately organized +at the Fort and the soldiers pursued the assassins into Mexico, finally +coming up with them and killing a number. I did not accompany the troops +on this occasion, having been detailed to the Santa Rita range to bring +in lumber to be used in building houses. + +I returned from the Santa Ritas in July and found an order had been +received at the Fort from the War Department that all men whose times +had expired or were shortly to expire should be congregated in Tucson +and from there marched to California for their discharge. A few weeks +later I went to the Old Pueblo and, together with several hundred others +from all parts of the Territory, was mustered out and started on the +return march to Wilmington where we arrived about October 1. On the +twelfth of October I was discharged. + +After working as cook for a short time for a company that was +constructing a railroad from Wilmington to Los Angeles, I moved to the +latter place and obtained employment in the Old Bella Union Hotel as +chef. John King was the proprietor of the Bella Union. Until Christmas +eve I stayed there, and then Sergeant John Curtis, of my company, who +had been working as a saddler for Banning, a capitalist in +Wilmington, came back to the kitchen and said: + +[Illustration: CADY'S HOUSE ON THE SONOITA, NEAR BLOXTON, 1914. BUILT IN +1868] + +"John, old sport, let's go to 'Frisco." + +"I haven't," I told him, "enough change to set 'em up across the street, +let alone go to 'Frisco." + +For answer Curtis pulled out a wallet, drew therefrom a roll of bills +that amounted to about $1,000, divided the pile into two halves, laid +them on the table and indicated them with his forefinger. + +"John," he offered, "if you'll come with me you can put one of those +piles in your pocket. What do you say?" + +Inasmuch as I had had previously little opportunity to really explore +San Francisco, the idea appealed to me and we shook hands on the +bargain. Christmas morning, fine, cloudless and warm, found us seated on +the San Jose stage. San Jose then was nearly as large a place as Tucson +is now--about twenty odd thousand, if I remember rightly. The stage +route carried us through the mission country now so widely exploited by +the railroads. Santa Barbara, San Luis Obispo and Monterey were all +towns on the way, Monterey being probably the largest. The country was +very thinly occupied, chiefly by Spanish haciendas that had been in the +country long before gold was discovered. The few and powerful owners of +these estates controlled practically the entire beautiful State of +California prior to '49, and at the time I write of still retained a +goodly portion of it. They grew rich and powerful, for their lands were +either taken by right of conquest or by grants from the original Mexican +government, and they paid no wages to their peons. These Spaniards, with +the priests, however, are to be credited with whatever progress +civilization made in the early days of California. They built the first +passable roads, they completed rough surveys and they first discovered +the wonderful fertility of the California soils. The towns they built +were built solidly, with an eye to the future ravages of earthquakes and +of Time, which is something the modern builder often does not do. There +are in many of their pueblos old houses built by the Spaniards in the +middle part of the eighteenth century which are still used and occupied. + +We arrived in San Francisco a few days after our departure from Los +Angeles, and before long the city had done to us what she still does to +so many--had broken us on her fickle wheel of fortune. It wasn't many +days before we found ourselves, our "good time" a thing of the past, "up +against it." + +"John," said Curtis, finally, "we're broke. We can't get no work. +What'll we do?" + +I thought a minute and then suggested the only alternative I could think +of. "Let's get a blanket," I offered. + +"Getting a blanket" was the phrase commonly in use when men meant to say +that they intended to enlist. Curtis met the idea with instant approval, +if not with acclamation, and, suiting the action to the words, we +obtained a hack and drove to the Presidio, where we underwent the +examination for artillerymen. Curtis passed easily and was accepted, but +I, owing to a wound in my ankle received during the war, was refused. + +Curtis obtained the customary three days' leave before joining his +company and for that brief space we roamed about the city, finishing our +"good time" with such money as Curtis had been able to raise by pawning +and selling his belongings. After the three days were over we parted, +Curtis to join his regiment; and since then I have neither seen nor +heard of him. If he still chances to be living, my best wishes go out to +him in his old age. + +For some time I hung around San Francisco trying to obtain employment, +without any luck. I was not then as skillful a gambler as I became in +after years, and, in any case, I had no money with which to gamble. It +was, I found, one thing to sit down to a monte deck at a table +surrounded with people you knew, where your credit was good, and another +to stake your money on a painted wheel in a great hall where nobody +cared whether you won or lost. + +Trying to make my little stake last as long as possible, I roomed in a +cheap hotel--the old What Cheer rooming house, and ate but one "two-bit" +meal a day. I was constantly on the lookout for work of some kind, but +had no luck until one day as I was passing up Kearney street I saw a +sign in one of the store windows calling for volunteers for the +Sloop-o'-War Jamestown. After reading the notice a couple of times I +decided to enlist, did so, was sent to Mare Island Navy Yard and from +there boarded the Jamestown. + +It was on that vessel that I performed an action that I have not since +regretted, however reprehensible it may seem in the light of present-day +ethics. Smallpox broke out on board and I, fearful of contracting the +dread disease, planned to desert. This would probably not have been +possible today, when the quarantine regulations are so strict, but in +those days port authorities were seldom on the alert to prevent vessels +with diseases anchoring with other shipping, especially in Mexico, in +the waters of which country we were cruising. + +When we reached Mazatlan I went ashore in the ordinary course of my +duties as ward-room steward to do some marketing and take the officers' +laundry to be washed. Instead of bringing the marketing back to the ship +I sent it, together with a note telling where the laundry would be +found, and saying good-bye forever to my shipmates. The note written and +dispatched, I quietly "vamoosed," or, as I believe it is popularly +termed in the navy now, I "went over the hill." + +My primary excuse for this action was, of course, the outbreak of +smallpox, which at that time and in fact until very recently, was as +greatly dreaded as bubonic plague is now, and probably more. +Vaccination, whatever may be its value in the prevention of the +disease, had not been discovered in the sense that it is now understood +and was not known at all except in the centers of medical practice in +the East. + +Smallpox then was a mysterious disease, and certainly a plague. Whole +populations had been wiped out by it, doctors had announced that there +was practically no cure for it and that its contraction meant almost +certain death, and I may thus be excused for my fear of the sickness. I +venture to state, moreover, that if all the men aboard the Jamestown had +had the same opportunity that I was given to desert, they would have +done so in a body. + +My second excuse, reader, if one is necessary, is that in the days of +the Jamestown and her sister ships, navy life was very different from +the navy life of today, when I understand generous paymasters are even +giving the jackies ice-cream with their meals. You may be entirely sure +that we got nothing of the kind. Our food was bad, our quarters were +worse, and the discipline was unbearably severe. + + + + +THROUGH MEXICO AND BACK TO ARIZONA + + "_Know thou the spell of the desert land, + Where Life and Love are free? + Know thou the lure the sky and sand + Hath for the man in me?_" + + +When I deserted from the sloop-o'-war Jamestown it was with the no +uncertain knowledge that it was distinctly to my best advantage to clear +out of the city of Mazatlan just as rapidly as I could, for the ships of +the free and (presumably) enlightened Republic had not yet swerved +altogether from the customs of the King's Navee, one of which said +customs was to hang deserters at the yard-arm. Sometimes they shot them, +but I do not remember that the gentlemen most concerned had any choice +in the matter. At any rate, I know that it was with a distinct feeling +of relief that I covered the last few yards that brought me out of the +city of Mazatlan and into the open country. In theory, of course, the +captain of the sloop-o'-war Jamestown could not have sent a squad of men +after me with instructions to bring me back off foreign soil dead or +alive, but in practice that is just what he would have done. Theory and +practice have a habit of differing, especially in the actions of an +irate skipper who sees one of his best ward-room stewards vanishing from +his jurisdiction. + +Life now opened before me with such a vista of possibilities that I felt +my breath taken away. Here was I, a youth twenty-two years old, husky +and sound physically, free in a foreign country which I felt an instant +liking for, and no longer beholden to the Stars and Stripes for which I +was quite ready to fight but not to serve in durance vile on a +plague-ship. My spirit bounded at the thought of the liberty that was +mine, and I struck northward out of Mazatlan with a light step and a +lighter heart. At the edge of the city I paused awhile on a bluff to +gaze for the last time on the Bay, on the waters of which rode quietly +at anchor the vessel I had a few hours before quit so unceremoniously. +There was no regret in my heart as I stood there and looked. I had no +particular love for Mexico, but then I had no particular love for the +sea, either, and a good deal less for the ships that sailed the sea. So +I turned my back very definitely on that part of my life and set my face +toward the north, where, had I known it, I was to find my destiny +beneath the cloudless turquoise skies of Arizona. + +When I left Mazatlan it was with the intention of walking as far as I +could before stopping, or until the weight of the small bundle +containing my worldly possessions tired my shoulders. But it was not to +be so. Only two miles out of the city I came upon a ranch owned by two +Americans, the sight of whom was very welcome to me just then. I had no +idea that I should find any American ranchers in the near neighborhood, +and considered myself in luck. I found that one of the American's names +was Colonel Elliot and I asked him for work. Elliot sized me up, invited +me in to rest up, and on talking with him I found him to be an +exceedingly congenial soul. He was an old Confederate colonel--was +Elliot, but although we had served on opposite sides of the sad war of a +few years back, the common bond of nationality that is always strongest +beyond the confines of one's own land prevented us from feeling any +aloofness toward each other on this account. To me Colonel Elliot was an +American, and a mighty decent specimen of an American at that--a friend +in need. And to Colonel Elliot also I was an American, and one needing +assistance. We seldom spoke of our political differences, partly because +our lives speedily became too full and intimate to admit of the petty +exchange of divergent views, and partly because I had been a boy during +the Civil War and my youthful brain had not been sufficiently mature to +assimilate the manifold prejudices, likes, dislikes and opposing +theories that were the heritage of nearly all those who lived during +that bloody four years' war. + +I have said that Colonel Elliot was a friend in need. There is an apt +saying that a "friend in need is a friend indeed," and such was Colonel +Elliot as I soon found. For I had not been a week at the ranch when I +was struck down with smallpox, and throughout that dangerous sickness, +lasting several weeks, the old Colonel, careless of contagion, nursed +me like a woman, finally bringing me back to a point where I once again +had full possession of all my youthful health and vigor. + +I do not just now recall the length of time I worked for Elliot and his +partner, but the stay, if not long, was most decidedly pleasant. I grew +to speak Spanish fluently, haunted the town of Mazatlan (from which the +Jamestown had long since departed), and made as good use generally of my +temporary employment as was possible. I tried hard to master the patois +of the peon as well as the flowery and eloquent language of the +aristocracy, for I knew well that should I at any time seek employment +as overseer at a rancho either in Mexico or Arizona, a knowledge of the +former would be indispensable, while a knowledge of the latter was at +all times useful in Mexico, especially in the cities, where the +possession of the cultured dialect marked one for special favors and +secured better attention at the stores. + +The Mexicans I grew to understand and like more and more the longer I +knew them. I found the average Mexican gentleman a model of politeness, +a Beau Brummel in dress and an artist in the use of the flowery terms +with which his splendid language abounds. The peons also I came to know +and understand. I found them a simple-minded, uncomplaining class, +willingly accepting the burdens which were laid on them by their +masters, the rich landlords; and living, loving and playing very much as +children. They were good-hearted--these Mexicans, and hospitable to the +last degree. This, indeed, is a characteristic as truly of the Mexican +of today as of the period of which I speak. They would, if needs be, +share their last crust with you even if you were an utter stranger, and +many the time some lowly peon host of mine would insist on my occupying +his rude bed whilst he and his family slept on the roof! Such +warm-hearted simplicity is very agreeable, and it was a vast change from +the world of the Americans, especially of the West, where the watchword +was: "Every man for himsel', and the de'il tak' the hindmost." It may be +remarked here that the de'il often took the foremost, too! + +When I left the hospitable shelter of Colonel Elliot's home I moved to +Rosario, Sinaloa, where was situated the famous Tajo mine which has made +the fortunes of the Bradbury family. It was owned then by Don Luis +Bradbury, senior, the same Bradbury whose son is now such a prominent +figure in the social and commercial life of San Francisco and Los +Angeles. I asked for work at the Bradbury mine, obtained it, and started +in shoveling refuse like any other common laborer at the munificent wage +of ten dollars per week, which was a little less than ten dollars more +than the Mexican peons laboring at the same work obtained. I had not +been working there long, however, when some suggestions I made to the +engineer obtained me recognition and promotion, and at the end of a +year, when I quit, I was earning $150 per month, or nearly four times +what my wage had been when I started. + +And then--and then, I believe it was the spell of the Arizona plains +that gripped the strings of my soul again and caused them to play a +different tune.... Or was it the prospect of an exciting and more or +less lawless life on the frontier that beckoned with enticing lure? I do +not know. But I grew to think more and more of Arizona, the Territory in +which I had reached my majority and had found my manhood; and more and +more I discovered myself longing to be back shaking hands with my old +friends and companions, and shaking, too, dice with Life itself. So one +day saw me once more on my way to the wild and free Territory, although +this time my road did not lie wholly across a burning and uninhabited +desert. + +It is a hard enough proposition now to get to the United States from +Mazatlan, or any other point in Mexico, when the Sud Pacifico and other +railroads are shattered in a dozen places and their schedules, those +that have them, are dependent on the magnanimity of the various tribes +of bandits that infest the routes; but at the time I write of it was +harder. + +To strike north overland was possible, though not to be advised, for +brigands infested the cedar forests of Sinaloa and southern Sonora; and +savage Yaquis, quite as much to be feared as the Apaches of further +north, ravaged the desert and mountain country. I solved the difficulty +finally by going to Mazatlan and shipping from that port as a deck-hand +on a Dutch brigantine, which I remember because of its exceptionally +vile quarters and the particularly dirty weather we ran up against on +our passage up the Gulf. The Gulf of California, especially the mouth of +it, has always had an evil reputation among mariners, and with justness, +but I firmly believe the elements out-did themselves in ferocity on the +trip I refer to. + +Guaymas reached, my troubles were not over, for there was still the long +Sonora desert to be crossed before the haven of Hermosillo could be +reached. At last I made arrangements with a freighting outfit and went +along with them. I had had a little money when I started, but both +Mazatlan and Guaymas happened to be chiefly filled with cantinas and +gambling-hells, and as I was not averse to frequenting either of these +places of first resort to the lonely wanderer, my money-bag was +considerably depleted when at last I arrived in the beautiful capital of +Sonora. I was, in fact, if a few odd dollars are excepted, broke, and +work was a prime necessity. Fortunately, jobs were at that time not very +hard to find. + +There was at that time in Hermosillo a house named the Casa Marian Para, +kept by one who styled himself William Taft. The Casa Marian Para will +probably be remembered in Hermosillo by old-timers now--in fact, I have +my doubts that it is not still standing. It was the chief stopping-house +in Sonora at that time. I obtained employment from Taft as a cook, but +stayed with it only long enough to procure myself a "grub-stake," after +which I "hit the grit" for Tucson, crossing the border on the Nogales +trail a few days later. I arrived in Tucson in the latter part of the +year 1870, and obtained work cooking for Charlie Brown and his family. + +It was while I was employed as chef in the Brown household that I +made--and lost, of course, a fortune. No, it wasn't a very big fortune, +but it was a fortune certainly very curiously and originally made. I +made it by selling ham sandwiches! + +Charlie Brown owned a saloon not far from the Old Church Plaza. It was +called Congress Hall, had been completed in 1868 and was one of the most +popular places in town. Charlie was fast becoming a plutocrat. One night +in the saloon I happened to hear a man come in and complain because +there wasn't a restaurant in town that would serve him a light snack at +that time of night except at outrageous prices. + +"That's right," said another man near me, "if somebody would only have +the sense to start a lunch-counter here the way they have them in the +East he'd make all kinds of money." + +The words suggested a scheme to me. The next day I saw Brown and got his +permission to serve a light lunch of sandwiches and coffee in the saloon +after I had finished my work at the house. Just at that time there was a +big crowd in the town, the first cattle having arrived in charge of a +hungry lot of Texan cowpunchers, and everyone was making money. I set up +my little lunch counter, charged seventy-five cents, or "six-bits" in +the language of the West, for a lunch consisting of a cup of coffee and +a sandwich, and speedily had all the customers I could handle. For forty +consecutive nights I made a clear profit of over fifty dollars each +night. Those sandwiches were a mint. And they were worth what I charged +for them, too, for bacon, ham, coffee and the other things were 'way up, +the three mentioned being fifty or sixty cents a pound for a very +indifferent quality. + +Sometimes I had a long line waiting to buy lunches, and all the time I +ran that lunch stand I never had one "kick" at the prices or the grub +offered. Those cowboys were well supplied with money, and they were more +than willing to spend it. Charlie Brown was making his fortune fast. + +After I quit Brown's employ, John McGee--the same man who now is +secretary of the Arizona Pioneers' Historical Society and a well-known +resident of Tucson--hired myself and another man to do assessment work +on the old Salero mine, which had been operated before the war. Our +conveyance was an old ambulance owned by Lord & Williams, who, as I have +said, kept the only store and the post office in Tucson. The outfit was +driven by "Old Bill" Sniffen, who will doubtless be remembered by many +Arizona pioneers. We picked up on the way "Old Man" Benedict, another +familiar character, who kept the stage station and ranch at Sahuarita, +where the Twin Buttes Railroad now has a station and branch to some +mines, and where a smelter is located. We were paid ten dollars per day +for our work and returned safely to Tucson. + +I spoke of Lord & Williams' store just now. When in the city of Tucson +recently I saw that Mr. Corbett has his tin shop where the old store and +post office was once. I recognized only two other buildings as having +existed in pioneer days, although there may be more. One was the old +church of San Augustine and the other was part of the Orndorff Hotel, +where Levin had his saloon. There were more saloons than anything else +in Tucson in the old days, and the pueblo richly earned its reputation, +spread broadcast all over the world, as being one of the "toughest" +places on the American frontier. + +Tucson was on the boom just then. Besides the first shipment of cattle, +and the influx of cowboys from Texas previously mentioned, the +Territorial capital had just been moved to Tucson from Prescott. It was +afterwards moved back again to Prescott, and subsequently to the new +town of Phoenix; but more of that later. + +After successfully concluding the assessment work and returning to +Tucson to be paid off by McGee I decided to move again, and this time +chose Wickenburg, a little place between Phoenix and Prescott, and one +of the pioneer towns of the Territory. West of Wickenburg on the +Colorado River was another settlement named Ehrenberg, after a man who +deserves a paragraph to himself. + +Herman Ehrenberg was a civil engineer and scientist of exceptional +talents who engaged in mining in the early days of Arizona following the +occupation of the Territory by the Americans. He was of German birth +and, coming at an early age to the United States, made his way to New +Orleans, where he enlisted in the New Orleans Grays when war broke out +between Mexico and Texas. After serving in the battles of Goliad and +Fanning's Defeat he returned to Germany and wrote and lectured for some +time on Texas and its resources. Soon after the publication of his book +on Texas he returned to the United States and at St. Louis, in 1840, he +joined a party crossing to Oregon. From that Territory he went to the +Sandwich Islands and for some years wandered among the islands of the +Polynesian Archipelago, returning to California in time to join General +Fremont in the latter's attempt to free California from Mexican rule. +After the Gadsden Purchase he moved to Arizona, where, after years of +occupation in mining and other industries, he was killed by a Digger +Indian at Dos Palmas in Southern California. The town of Ehrenberg was +named after him.[1] + +[Illustration: FORT CRITTENDEN RUINS, 1914. QUARTERS OF COS. K AND +C, 1ST U. S. CAVALRY IN 1868] + +FOOTNOTE: + +[Footnote 1: This information relative to Ehrenberg is taken largely +from The History of Arizona; De Long, 1905.] + + + + +STAGE DRIVER'S LUCK + + _God, men call Destiny: Hear thee my prayer! + Grant that life's secret for e'er shall be kept. + Wiser than mine is thy will; I dare + Not dust where thy broom hath swept._ + --WOON. + + +I have said that Wickenburg was a small place half-way between Phoenix +and Prescott, but that is not quite right. Wickenburg was situated +between Prescott and the valley of the Salt River, in the fertile midst +of which the foundation stones of the future capital of Arizona had yet +to be laid. To be sure, there were a few shacks on the site, and a few +ranchers in the valley, but the city of Phoenix had yet to blossom forth +from the wilderness. I shall find occasion later to speak of the birth +of Phoenix, however. + +When I arrived in Wickenburg from Tucson--and the journey was no mean +affair, involving, as it did, a ride over desert and mountains, both of +which were crowded with hostile Apaches--I went to work as stage driver +for the company that operated stages out of Wickenburg to Ehrenberg, +Prescott and other places, including Florence which was just then +beginning to be a town. + +Stage driving in Arizona in the pioneer days was a dangerous, difficult, +and consequently high-priced job. The Indians were responsible for this +in the main, although white highwaymen became somewhat numerous later +on. Sometimes there would be a raid, the driver would be killed, and the +stage would not depart again for some days, the company being unable to +find a man to take the reins. The stages were large and unwieldy, but +strongly built. They had to be big enough to hold off raiders should +they attack. Every stage usually carried, besides the driver, two +company men who went heavily armed and belted around with numerous +cartridges. One sat beside the driver on the box-seat. In the case of +the longer stage trips two or three men guarded the mail. Very few women +traveled in those days--in fact, there were not many white women in the +Territory and those who did travel usually carried some masculine +protector with them. A man had to be a good driver to drive a stage, +too, for the heavy brakes were not easily manipulated and there were +some very bad stretches of road. + +Apropos of what I have just said about stage drivers being slain, and +the difficulty sometimes experienced in getting men to take their +places, I remember that on certain occasions I would take the place of +the mail driver from Tucson to Apache Pass, north of where Douglas now +is--the said mail driver having been killed--get fifty dollars for the +trip and blow it all in before I started for fear I might not otherwise +get a chance to spend it. + +The stage I drove for this Wickenburg company was one that ran regular +trips out of Wickenburg. Several trips passed without much occurring +worthy of note; and then on one trip I fell off the box, injuring my +ankle. When I arrived back in Wickenburg I was told by Manager Pierson +of the company that I would be relieved from driving the stage because +my foot was not strong enough to work the heavy brakes, and would be +given instead the buckboard to drive to Florence and back on post-office +business. + +The next trip the stage made out of Wickenburg, therefore, I remained +behind. A few miles from town the stage was held up by an overwhelming +force of Apaches, the driver and all save two of the passengers +massacred, and the contents looted. A woman named Moll Shepherd, going +back East with a large sum of money in her possession, and a man named +Kruger, escaped the Indians, hid in the hills and were the only two who +survived to tell the story of what has gone down into history as the +famous "Wickenburg Stage Massacre." I shudder now to think how nearly I +might have been on the box on that fatal trip. + +I was not entirely to escape the Apaches, however. On the first return +trip from Florence to Wickenburg with the buckboard, while I was +congratulating myself and thanking my lucky stars for the accident to my +ankle, Apaches "jumped" the buckboard and gave me and my one passenger, +Charlie Block of Wickenburg, a severe tussle for it. We beat them off in +the end, owing to superior marksmanship, and arrived in Wickenburg +unhurt. Block was part owner of the Barnett and Block store in +Wickenburg and was a well-known man in that section. + +After this incident I determined to quit driving stages and buckboards +and, casting about for some new line of endeavor, went for the first +time into the restaurant business for myself. The town needed an +establishment of the kind I put up, and as I had always been a good cook +I cleaned up handsomely, especially as it was while I was running the +restaurant that Miner started his notorious stampede, when thousands of +gold-mad men followed a will-o'-the-wisp trail to fabulously rich +diggings which turned out to be entirely mythical. + +It was astonishing how little was required in those days to start a +stampede. A stranger might come in town with a "poke" of gold dust. He +would naturally be asked where he had made the strike. As a matter of +fact, he probably had washed a dozen different streams to get the +poke-full, but under the influence of liquor he might reply: "Oh, over +on the San Carlos," or the San Pedro, or some other stream. It did not +require that he should state how rich the streak was, or whether it had +panned out. All that was necessary to start a mad rush in the direction +he had designated was the sight of his gold and the magic word "streak." +Many were the trails that led to death or bitter disappointment, in +Arizona's early days. + +Most of the old prospectors did not see the results of their own +"strikes" nor share in the profits from them after their first "poke" +had been obtained. There was old John Waring, for instance, who found +gold on a tributary of the Colorado and blew into Arizona City, got +drunk and told of his find: + +"Gold--Gold.... Lots 'v it!" he informed them, drunkenly, incoherently, +and woke up the next morning to find that half the town had disappeared +in the direction of his claim. He rushed to the registry office to +register his claim, which he had foolishly forgotten to do the night +before. He found it already registered. Some unscrupulous rascal had +filched his secret, even to the exact location of his claim, from the +aged miner and had got ahead of him in registering it. No claim is +really legal until it is registered, although in the mining camps of the +old days it was a formality often dispensed with, since claim jumpers +met a prompt and drastic punishment. + +In many other instances the big mining men gobbled up the smaller ones, +especially at a later period, when most of the big mines were grouped +under a few large managements, with consequent great advantage over +their smaller competitors. + +Indeed, there is comparatively little incentive now for a prospector to +set out in Arizona, because if he chances to stumble on a really rich +prospect, and attempts to work it himself, he is likely to be so +browbeaten that he is finally forced to sell out to some large concern. +There are only a few smelters in or near the State and these are +controlled by large mining companies. Very well; we will suppose a +hypothetical case: + +A, being a prospector, finds a copper mine. He says to himself: "Here's +a good property; it ought to make me rich. I won't sell it, I'll hold on +to it and work it myself." + +So far, so good. + +A starts in to work his mine. He digs therefrom considerable rich ore. +And now a problem presents itself. + +He has no concentrator, no smelter of his own. He cannot afford to build +one; therefore it is perfectly obvious that he cannot crush his own ore. +He must, then, send it elsewhere to be smelted, and to do this must sell +his ore to the smelter. + +In the meantime a certain big mining company has investigated A's find +and has seen that it is rich. The company desires the property, as it +desires all other rich properties. It offers to buy the mine for a sum +far below its actual value. Naturally, the finder refuses. + +But he must smelt his ore. And to smelt it he finds he is compelled to +sell it to a smelter that is controlled by the mining company whose +offer he has refused. He sends his ore to the smelter. Back comes the +quotation for his product, at a price ridiculously low. "That's what +we'll give you," says the company, through its proxy the smelter, "take +it or leave it," or words to that effect. + +Now, what can A do? Nothing at all. He must either sell his ore at an +actual loss or sell his mine to the company. Naturally, he does the +latter, and at a figure he finds considerably lower than the first +offer. The large concern has him where it wanted him and it snuffs out +his dreams of wealth and prosperity effectively. + +These observations are disinterested. I have never, curiously enough, +heeded the insistent call of the diggings; I have never "washed a pan," +and my name has never appeared on the share-list of a mine. And this, +too, has been in spite of the fact that often I have been directly in +the paths of the various excitements. I have been always wise enough to +see that the men who made rapid fortunes in gold were not the men who +stampeded head-over-heels to the diggings, but the men who stayed behind +and opened up some kind of business which the gold-seekers would +patronize. These were the reapers of the harvest, and there was little +risk in their game, although the stakes were high. + +I have said that I never owned a mining share. Well, I never did; but +once I came close to owning a part share in what is now the richest +copper mine on earth--a mine that, with the Anaconda in Montana, almost +determines the price of raw copper. I will tell you the tale. + +Along in the middle seventies--I think it was '74, I was partner with a +man named George Stevens at Eureka Springs, west of Fort Thomas in the +Apache country, a trading station for freighters. We were owners of the +trading station, which was some distance south of where the copper +cities of Globe and Miami are now situated. We made very good money at +the station and Stevens and I decided to have some repairs and additions +built to the store. We looked around for a mason and finally hired one +named George Warren, a competent man whose only fault was a fondness for +the cup that cheers. + +Warren was also a prospector of some note and had made several rich +strikes. It was known that, while he had never found a bonanza, wherever +he announced "pay dirt" there "pay dirt" invariably was to be found. In +other words, he had a reputation for reliability that was valuable to +him and of which he was intensely vain. He was a man with "hunches," and +hunches curiously enough, that almost always made good. + +These hunches were more or less frequent with Warren. They usually came +when he was broke for, like all prospectors, Warren found it highly +inconvenient ever to be the possessor of a large sum of money for any +length of time. He had been known to say to a friend: "I've got a +hunch!" disappear, and in a week or two, return with a liberal amount of +dust. Between hunches he worked at his trade. + +When he had completed his work on the store at Eureka Springs for myself +and Stevens, Warren drew me aside one night and, very confidentially, +informed me that he had a hunch. "You're welcome to it, George," I +said, and, something calling me away at that moment, I did not hear of +him again until I returned from New Fort Grant, whither I had gone with +a load of hay for which we had a valuable contract with the government. +Then Stevens informed me that Warren had told him of his hunch, had +asked for a grub-stake, and, on being given one, had departed in a +southerly direction with the information that he expected to make a find +over in the Dos Cabezas direction. + +He was gone several weeks, and then one day Stevens said to me, quietly: + +"John, Warren's back." + +"Yes?" I answered. "Did he make a strike?" + +"He found a copper mine," said Stevens. + +"Oh, only copper!" I laughed. "That hunch system of his must have got +tarnished by this time, then!" + +You see, copper at that time was worth next to nothing. There was no big +smelter in the Territory and it was almost impossible to sell the ore. +So it was natural enough that neither myself nor Stevens should feel +particularly jubilant over Warren's strike. One day I thought to ask +Warren whether he had christened his mine yet, as was the custom. + +"I'm going to call it the 'Copper Queen,'" he said. + +I laughed at him for the name, but admitted it a good one. That mine +today, reader, is one of the greatest copper properties in the world. It +is worth about a billion dollars. The syndicate that owns it owns as +well a good slice of Arizona. + +"Syndicate?" I hear you ask. "Why, what about Warren, the man who found +the mine, and Stevens, the man who grub-staked him?" + +Ah! What about them! George Stevens bet his share of the mine against +$75 at a horse race one day, and lost; and George Warren, the man with +the infallible hunch, died years back in squalid misery, driven there by +drink and the memory of many empty discoveries. The syndicate that +obtained the mine from Warren gave him a pension amply sufficient for +his needs, I believe. It is but fair to state that had the mine been +retained by Warren the probabilities are it would never have been +developed, for Warren, like other old prospectors, was a genius at +finding pay-streaks, but a failure when it came to exploiting them. + +That, reader, is the true story of the discovery of the Copper Queen, +the mine that has made a dozen fortunes and two cities--Bisbee and +Douglas. If I had gone in with Stevens in grub-staking poor Warren would +I, too, I wonder, have sold my share for some foolish trifle or +recklessly gambled it away? I wonder!... Probably, I should. + + + + +A FRONTIER BUSINESS MAN + + "_The chip of chisel, hum of saw, + The stones of progress laid; + The city grew, and, helped by its law, + Men many fortunes made._" + + --Song of the City, by T. BURGESS. + + +A Phoenix man was in Patagonia recently and--I don't say he was a +typical Phoenix man--commented in a superior tone on the size of the +town. + +"Why," he said, as if it clinched the argument, "Phoenix would make ten +Patagonias." + +"And then some," I assented, "but, sonny, I built the third house in +Phoenix. Did you know that? And I burnt Indian grain fields in the Salt +River Valley long before anyone ever thought of building a city there. +Even a big city has had some time to be a small one." + +That settled it; the Phoenix gentleman said no more. + +I told him only the exact truth when I said that I built the third house +in Phoenix. + +After I had started the Wickenburg restaurant came rumors that a new +city was to be started in the fertile Salt River Valley, between Sacaton +and Prescott, some forty or fifty miles north of the former place. +Stories came that men had tilled the land of the valley and had found +that it would grow almost anything, as, indeed, it has since been found +that any land in Arizona will do, providing the water is obtained to +irrigate it. One of Arizona's most wonderful phenomena is the sudden +greening of the sandy stretches after a heavy rain. One day everything +is a sun-dried brown, as far as the eye can see. Every arroyo is dry, +the very cactus seems shriveled and the deep blue of the sky gives no +promise of any relief. Then, in the night, thunder-clouds roll up from +the painted hills, a tropical deluge resembling a cloud-burst falls, and +in the morning--lo! where was yellow sand parched from months of +drought, is now sprouting green grass! It is a marvelous +transformation--a miracle never to be forgotten by one who has seen it. + +However, irrigation is absolutely necessary to till the soil in most +districts of Arizona, though in some sections of the State dry farming +has been successfully resorted to. It has been said that Arizona has +more rivers and less water than any state in the Union, and this is +true. Many of these are rivers only in the rainy season, which in the +desert generally comes about the middle of July and lasts until early +fall. Others are what is known as "sinking rivers," flowing above ground +for parts of their courses, and as frequently sinking below the sand, to +reappear further along. The Sonoita, upon which Patagonia is situated, +is one of these "disappearing rivers," the water coming up out of the +sand about half a mile from the main street. The big rivers, the +Colorado, the Salt, the upper Gila and the San Pedro, run the year +around, and there are several smaller streams in the more fertile +districts that do the same thing. + +The larger part of the Arizona "desert" is not barren sand, but fertile +silt and adobe, needing only water to make of it the best possible soil +for farming purposes. Favored by a mild winter climate the Salt River +Valley can be made to produce crops of some kind each month in the +year--fruits in the fall, vegetables in the winter season, grains in +spring and alfalfa, the principal crop, throughout the summer. A +succession of crops may oftentimes be grown during the year on one farm, +so that irrigated lands in Arizona yield several times the produce +obtainable in the Eastern states. Alfalfa may be cut six or seven times +a year with a yield of as much as ten tons to the acre. The finest +Egyptian cotton, free from the boll weevil scourge, may also be grown +successfully and is fast becoming one of the staple products of the +State. Potatoes, strawberries, pears, peaches and melons, from temperate +climates; and citrus fruits, sorghum grains and date palms from +subtropical regions, give some idea of the range of crops possible here. +Many farmers from the Eastern and Southern states and from California, +finding this out, began to take up land, dig irrigating ditches and make +homes in Arizona. + +Fifteen or twenty pioneers had gone to the Salt River Valley while I +was at Wickenburg and there had taken up quarter sections on which they +raised, chiefly, barley, wheat, corn and hay. A little fruit was also +experimented in. Some of the men who were on the ground at the beginning +I remember to have been Dennis and Murphy, Tom Gray, Jack Walters, +Johnny George, George Monroe, Joe Fugit, Jack Swilling, Patterson, the +Parkers, the Sorrels, the Fenters and a few others whose names I do not +recall. A townsite had been laid out, streets surveyed, and before long +it became known that the Territory had a new city, the name of which was +Phoenix. + +The story of the way in which the name "Phoenix" was given to the city +that in future days was to become the metropolis of the State, is +interesting. When the Miner excitement was over I decided to move to the +new Salt River townsite, and soon after my arrival there attended a +meeting of citizens gathered together to name the new city. Practically +every settler in the Valley was at this meeting, which was destined to +become historic. + +Among those present was a Frenchman named Darrel Dupper, or Du Perre, as +his name has sometimes been written, who was a highly educated man and +had lived in Arizona for a number of years. When the question of naming +the townsite came up several suggestions were offered, among them being +"Salt City," "Aricropolis," and others. Dupper rose to his feet and +suggested that the city be called Phoenix, because, he explained, the +Phoenix was a bird of beautiful plumage and exceptional voice, which +lived for five hundred years and then, after chanting its death-song, +prepared a charnel-house for itself and was cremated, after which a new +and glorified bird arose from the ashes to live a magnificent existence +forever. When Dupper finished his suggestion and explanation the meeting +voted on the names and the Frenchman's choice was decided upon. +"Phoenix" it has been ever since. + +Before I had been in Phoenix many days I commenced the building of a +restaurant, which I named the Capital Restaurant. The capital was then +at Prescott, having been moved from Tucson, but my name evidently must +have been prophetic, for the capital city of Arizona is now none other +than Phoenix, which at the present day probably has the largest +population in the State--over twenty thousand. + +Soon I gained other interests in Phoenix besides the restaurant. The +Capital made me much money, and I invested what I did not spend in +"having a good time," in various other enterprises. I went into the +butcher business with Steel & Coplin. I built the first bakery in +Phoenix. I staked two men to a ranch north of the city, from which I +later on proceeded to flood the Territory with sweet potatoes. I was the +first man, by the way, to grow sweet potatoes in Arizona. I built a +saloon and dance hall, and in this, naturally, was my quickest turnover. + +I am not an apologist, least of all for myself, and as this is the true +story of a life I believe to have been exceptionally varied I think that +in it should be related the things I did which might be considered "bad" +nowadays, as well as the things I did which, by the same token, +present-day civilization may consider "good." + +I may relate, therefore, that for some years I was known as the largest +liquor dealer in the Territory, as well as one of the shrewdest hands at +cards. Although I employed men to do the work, often players would +insist on my dealing the monte deck or laying down the faro lay-out for +them. I played for big stakes, too--bigger stakes than people play for +nowadays in the West. Many times I have sat down with the equivalent of +thousands of dollars in chips and played them all away, only to regain +them again without thinking it anything particularly unusual. As games +go, I was considered "lucky" for a gambler. Though not superstitious, I +believed in this luck of mine, and this is probably the reason that it +held good for so long. If of late various things, chiefly the mining +depression, have made my fortunes all to the bad, I am no man to whine +at the inevitable. I can take my ipecac along with the next man! + +There were few men in the old days in Phoenix, or, indeed, the entire +Territory, who did not drink liquor, and lots of it. In fact, it may be +said that the entire fabric of the Territory was constructed on liquor. +The pioneers were most of them whiskey fiends, as were the gamblers. +By this I am not defending the liquor traffic. I have sold more liquor +than any man in Arizona over the bar in my life-time, but I voted dry at +the last election and I adhere to the belief that a whiskey-less Arizona +will be the best for our children and our children's children. + +[Illustration: THE OLD WARD HOMESTEAD, WHERE CADY KEPT STORE DURING THE +BUILDING OF THE SANTA FE RAILROAD] + +During my residence in Phoenix Darrel Dupper, the man who had christened +the town, became one of my best friends. He kept the post and trading +store at Desert Station, at which place was the only water to be found +between Phoenix and Wickenburg, if I remember correctly. The station +made him wealthy. Dupper was originally Count Du Perre, and came of a +noted aristocratic French family. His forefathers were, I believe, +prominent in the court of Louis XIV. When a young man he committed some +foolhardy act in France and was banished by his people, who sent him a +monthly remittance on condition that he get as far away from his home as +he could, and stay there. To fulfill the terms of this agreement Du +Perre came to Arizona among the early pioneers and soon proved that he +had the stuff of a real man in him. He learned English and Americanized +his name to Dupper. He engaged in various enterprises and finally +started Desert Station, where he made his fortune. + +He was a curious character as he became older. Sometimes he would stay +away from Phoenix for several months and then one day he would appear +with a few thousand dollars, more or less, spend every cent of it in +treating the boys in my house and "blow back" home again generally in my +debt. He used to sing La Marseillaise--it was the only song he knew--and +after the first few drinks would solemnly mount a table, sing a few +verses of the magnificent revolutionary song, call on me to do likewise, +and then "treat the house." Often he did this several times each night, +and as "treating the house" invariably cost at least thirty dollars and +he was an inveterate gambler, it will be seen that in one way or another +I managed to secure considerable of old Dupper's fortune. His partiality +to the Marseillaise leads me to the belief that he was banished for +participation in one of the French revolutions; but this I cannot state +positively. + +On one occasion I remember that I was visiting with Dupper and we made a +trip together somewhere, Dupper leaving his cook in charge. When we +returned nobody noticed us and I happened to look through a window +before entering the house. Hastily I beckoned to Dupper. + +The Frenchman's cook was sitting on his bed with a pile of money--the +day's takings--in front of him. He was dividing the pile into two +halves. Taking one bill off the pile he would lay it to one side and +say: + +"This is for Dupper." + +Then he'd take the next bill, lay it in another spot, and say: + +"And this is for me." + +We watched him through the window unnoticed until he came to the last +ten-dollar bill. It was odd. The cook deliberated a few moments and +finally put the bill on top of the pile he had reserved for himself. +Then Dupper, whose face had been a study in emotions, could keep still +no longer. + +"Hey, there!" he yelled, "play fair--play fair! Divvy up that ten spot!" + +What happened afterwards to that cook I don't remember. But Dupper was a +good sport. + + + + +VENTURES AND ADVENTURES + + _Hush! What brooding stillness is hanging over all? + What's this talk in whispers, and that placard on the wall? + Aha! I see it now! They're going to hang a man! + Judge Lynch is on the ramparts and the Law's an "Also-Ran!"_ + --WOON. + + +Reader, have you ever seen the look in a man's eyes after he has been +condemned by that Court of Last Appeal--his fellow-men? I have, many +times. It is a look without a shadow of hope left, a look of dread at +the ferocity of the mob, a look of fear at what is to come afterwards; +and seldom a hint of defiance lurks in such a man's expression. + +I have seen and figured in many lynchings. In the old days they were the +inseparables, the Frontier and Judge Lynch. If a white man killed a +Mexican or Indian nothing was done, except perhaps to hold a farce of a +trial with the killer in the end turned loose; and if a white man killed +another white man there was seldom much outcry, unless the case was +cold-blooded murder or the killer was already unpopular. But let a +Mexican or an Indian lift one finger against a white man and the whole +strength of the Whites was against him in a moment; he was hounded to +his hole, dragged forth, tried by a committee of citizens over whom +Judge Lynch sat with awful solemnity, and was forthwith hung. + +More or less of this was in some degree necessary. The killing of an +Apache was accounted a good day's work, since it probably meant that the +murderer of several white men had gone to his doom. To kill a Mexican +only meant that another "bad hombre" had gone to his just deserts. + +And most of the Mexicans in Arizona in the early days were "bad +hombres"--there is no doubt about that. It was they who gave the Mexican +such a bad name on the frontier, and it was they who first earned the +title "greaser." They were a murderous, treacherous lot of rascals. + +In the Wickenburg stage massacre, for instance, it was known that +several Mexicans were involved--wood-choppers. One of these Mexicans was +hunted for weeks and was caught soon after I arrived in Phoenix. I was +running my dance hall when a committee of citizens met in a mass-meeting +and decided that the law was too slow in its working and gave the +Mexican too great an opportunity to escape. The meeting then resolved +itself into a hanging committee, broke open the jail, seized the +prisoner from the arms of the sheriff and hung him to the rafters just +inside the jail door. That done, they returned to their homes and +occupations satisfied that at least one "Greaser" had not evaded the +full penalty of his crimes. + +Soon after a Mexican arrived in town with a string of cows to sell. +Somebody recognized the cows as ones that had belonged to a rancher +named Patterson. The Mexican was arrested by citizens and a horseman +sent out to investigate. Patterson was found killed. At once, and with +little ceremony, the Mexican with the cattle was "strung up" to the +cross of a gatepost, his body being left to sway in the wind until +somebody came along with sufficient decency to cut it down. + +Talking about lynchings, reminds me of an incident that had almost +slipped my mind. Before I went to Wickenburg from Tucson I became +partners with a man named Robert Swope in a bar and gambling lay-out in +a little place named Adamsville, a few miles below where Florence now is +on the Gila River. Swope was tending bar one night when an American shot +him dead and got away. The murderer was soon afterward captured in +Tucson and lynched in company with two Mexicans who were concerned in +the murder of a pawnbroker there. + + * * * * * + +In Phoenix I married my first wife, whose given name was Ruficia. Soon +afterwards I moved to Tucson, where, after being awarded one child, I +had domestic trouble which ended in the courts. My wife finally returned +to Phoenix and, being free again, married a man named Murphy. After this +experience I determined to take no further chances with matrimony. +However, I needed a helpmate, so I solved the difficulty by marrying +Paola Ortega by contract for five years. Contract marriages were +universally recognized and indulged in in the West of the early days. My +relations with Paola were eminently satisfactory until the expiration of +the contract, when she went her way and I mine. + +Before I leave the subject of Phoenix it will be well to mention that +when I left I sold all my property there, consisting of some twenty-two +lots, all in the heart of the city, for practically a song. Six of these +lots were situated where now is a big planing mill. Several lots I sold +to a German for a span of mules. The German is alive today and lives in +Phoenix a wealthy man, simply because he had the foresight and acumen to +do what I did not do--hang on to his real estate. If I had kept those +twenty-two lots until now, without doing more than simply pay my taxes +on them, my fortune today would be comfortably up in the six figures. +However, I sold the lots, and there's no use crying over spilled milk. +Men are doing today all over the world just what I did then. + +I had not been in Tucson long before I built there the largest saloon +and dance-hall in the Territory. Excepting for one flyer in Florence, +which I shall speak of later on, this was to be my last venture into the +liquor business. My hall was modeled after those on the Barbary Coast. +It cost "four-bits" and drinks to dance, and the dances lasted only a +few minutes. At one time I had thirteen Mexican girls dancing in the +hall, and this number was increased on special days until the floor was +crowded. I always did good business--so good, in fact, that jealousy +aroused in the minds of my rivals finally forced me out. Since then, as +I have said, with the single Florence exception, I have not been in the +dance-hall business, excepting that I now have at some expense put a +ballroom into my hotel at Patagonia, in which are held at times social +dances which most of the young folk of the county attend, the liquor +element being entirely absent, of course.[2] + +Besides paying a heavy license for the privilege of selling liquor in my +Tucson dance hall, I was compelled every morning, in addition, to pay +over $5 as a license for the dance-hall and $1.50 collector's fees, +which, if not paid out every morning as regularly as clockwork, would +have threatened my business. I did not complain of this tax; it was a +fair one considering the volume of trade I did. But my patronage grew +and grew until there came a day when "Cady's Place," as it was known, +was making more money for its owner than any similar establishment in +Arizona. The saloon-keepers in Tucson became inordinately jealous and +determined to put an end to my "luck," as they called it. Accordingly, +nine months after I had opened my place these gentlemen used their +influence quietly with the Legislature and "jobbed" me. The license was +raised for dance halls at one bound to $25 per night. This was a +heavier tax than even my business would stand, so I set about at once +looking for somebody on whom to unload the property. I claim +originality, if not a particular observance of ethics, in doing this. + +One day a man came along and, when he saw the crowd in the hall, +suggested that I sell him a share in the enterprise. + +"No," I replied, "I'll not sell you a share; but, to tell you the truth, +I'm getting tired of this business, and want to get out of it for good. +I'll sell you the whole shooting-match, if you want to buy. Suppose you +stay tonight with my barkeep and see what kind of business I do." + +He agreed and I put two hundred dollars in my pocket and started around +town. I spent that two hundred dollars to such good purpose that that +night the hall was crowded to the doors. The prospective purchaser +looked on with blinking eyes at the thought of the profits that must +accrue to the owner. Would he buy the place? Would he? Well, say--he was +so anxious to buy it that he wanted to pass over the cash when he saw me +counting up my takings in the small hours of the morning. The takings +were, I remember, $417. But I told him not to be in a hurry, to go home +and sleep over the proposition and come back the next day. + +After he had gone the collector came around, took his $26.50 and +departed. On his heels came my man. + +"Do you still want to buy?" I asked him. + +"You bet your sweet life I want to buy," he replied. + +"You're sure you've investigated the proposition fully?" I asked him. + +The customer thought of that four hundred and seventeen dollars taken in +over the bar the night before and said he had. + +"Hand over the money, then," I said, promptly. "The place is yours." + +The next morning he came to me with a lugubrious countenance. + +"Well," I greeted him, "how much did you make last night?" + +"Took in ninety-six dollars," he answered, sadly. "Cady, why didn't you +tell me about that $25 tax?" + +"Tell you about it?" I repeated, as if astonished. "Why, didn't I ask +you if you had investigated the thing fully? Did I ask you to go into +the deal blindfold? It wasn't my business to tell you about any tax." + +And with that he had to be content. + + * * * * * + +I was now out of the dance-hall business for good, and I looked about +for some other and more prosaic occupation to indulge in. Thanks to the +deal I had put through with the confiding stranger with the ready cash, +I was pretty well "heeled" so far as money went, and all my debts were +paid. Finally I decided that I would go into business again and bought +a grocery store on Mesilla street. + +The handing out of canned tomatoes and salt soda crackers, however, +speedily got on my nerves. I was still a comparatively young man and my +restless spirit longed for expression in some new environment. About +this time Paola, my contract-wife, who was everything that a wife should +be in my opinion, became a little homesick and spoke often of the home +she had left at Sauxal, a small gulf-coast port in Lower California. +Accordingly, one morning, I took it into my head to take her home on a +visit to see her people, and, the thought being always father to the +action with me, I traded my grocery store for a buckboard and team and +some money, and set forth in this conveyance for Yuma. This was a trip +not considered so very dangerous, except for the lack of water, for the +Indians along the route were mostly peaceable and partly civilized. Only +for a short distance out of Tucson did the Apache hold suzerainty, and +this only when sufficient Papagos, whose territory it really was, could +not be mustered together in force to drive them off. The Papago Indians +hated the Apaches quite as much as the white man did, for the Papago +lacked the stamina and fighting qualities of the Apache and in other +characteristics was an entirely different type of Indian. I have reason +to believe that the Apaches were not originally natives of Arizona, but +were an offshoot of one of the more ferocious tribes further north. +This I think because, for one thing, the facial characteristics of the +other Arizona Indians--the Pimas, Papagos, Yumas, Maricopas, and +others--are very similar to each other but totally different from those +of the various Apache tribes, as was the language they spoke. The +Papagos, Pimas, Yumas, Maricopas and other peaceable Indian peoples were +of a settled nature and had lived in their respective territories for +ages before the white man came to the West. The Apache, on the other +hand, was a nomad, with no definite country to call his own and +recognizing no boundary lines of other tribes. It was owing to Apache +depredations on the Papagos and Pimas that the latter were so willingly +enlisted on the side of the White man in the latter's fight for +civilization. + +Reaching Yuma without any event to record that I remember, we took one +of the Colorado River boats to the mouth of the Colorado, where +transfers were made to the deep-sea ships plying between the Colorado +Gulf and San Francisco. One of these steamers, which were creditable to +the times, we took to La Paz. At La Paz Paola was fortunate enough to +meet her padrina, or godfather, who furnished us with mules and horses +with which we reached Sauxal, Paola's home. There we stayed with her +family for some time. + +While staying at Sauxal I went to a fiesta in the Arroyo San Luis and +there began playing cooncan with an old rancher who was accounted one of +the most wealthy inhabitants of the country. I won from him two +thousand oranges, five gallons of wine, seventeen buckskins and two +hundred heifers. The heifers I presented to Paola and the buckskins I +gave to her brothers to make leggings out of. The wine and oranges I +took to La Paz and sold, netting a neat little sum thereby. + +Sixty miles from La Paz was El Triunfo, one of the best producing silver +mines in Lower California, managed by a man named Blake. Obeying an +impulse I one day went out to the mine and secured a job, working at it +for some time, and among other things starting a small store which was +patronized by the company's workmen. Growing tired of this occupation, I +returned to Sauxal, fetched Paola and with her returned to Yuma, or +Arizona City, where I started a small chicken ranch a few miles up the +river. Coyotes and wolves killed my poultry, however, and sores +occasioned by ranch work broke out on my hands, so I sold the chicken +ranch and moved to Arizona City, opening a restaurant on the main +street. In this cafe I made a specialty of pickled feet--not pig's feet, +but bull's feet, for which delicacy I claim the original creation. It +was some dish, too! They sold like hot-cakes. + +While I was in Lower California I witnessed a sight that is well worth +speaking of. It was a Mexican funeral, and the queerest one I ever saw +or expect to see, though I have read of Chinese funerals that perhaps +approach it in peculiarity. It was while on my way back to Sauxal from +La Paz that I met the cortege. The corpse was that of a wealthy +rancher's wife, and the coffin was strung on two long poles borne by +four men. Accompanying the coffin alongside of those carrying it were +about two hundred horsemen. The bearers kept up a jog-trot, never once +faltering on the way, each horseman taking his turn on the poles. When +it became a man's turn to act as bearer nobody told him, but he slipped +off his horse, letting it run wherever it pleased, ran to the coffin, +ducked under the pole and started with the others on the jog-trot, while +the man whose place he had taken caught his horse. Never once in a carry +of 150 miles did that coffin stop, and never once did that jog-trot +falter. The cortege followers ate at the various ranches they passed, +nobody thinking of refusing them food. The 150 mile journey to San Luis +was necessary in order to reach a priest who would bury the dead woman. +All the dead were treated in the same manner. + +While I was in Yuma the railroad reached Dos Palmas, Southern +California, and one day I went there with a wagon and bought a load of +apples, which, with one man to accompany me, I hauled all the way to +Tucson. That wagon-load of apples was the first fruit to arrive in the +Territory and it was hailed with acclaim. I sold the lot for one +thousand dollars, making a profit well over fifty per cent. Then with +the wagon I returned to Yuma. + +On the way, as I was nearing Yuma, I stopped at Canyon Station, which a +man named Ed. Lumley kept. Just as we drove up an old priest came out of +Lumley's house crying something aloud. We hastened up and he motioned +inside. Within we saw poor Lumley dead, with both his hands slashed off +and his body bearing other marks of mutilation. It turned out that two +Mexicans to whom Lumley had given shelter had killed him because he +refused to tell them where he kept his money. The Mexicans were +afterwards caught in California, taken to Maricopa county and there, +after trial by the usual method, received the just penalty for their +crime. + +From Yuma I moved to Florence, Arizona, where I built a dance-hall and +saloon, which I sold almost immediately to an Italian named Gendani. +Then I moved back to Tucson, my old stamping-ground. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[Footnote 2: Since this was written the State has abolished the sale of +liquor from within its boundaries.] + + + + +INDIAN WARFARE + + _When strong men fought and loved and lost, + And might was right throughout the land; + When life was wine and wine was life, + And God looked down on endless strife; + Where murder, lust and hate were rife, + What footprints Time left in the sand!_ + --WOON. + + +In the seventies and early eighties the hostility of the various Apache +Indian tribes was at its height, and there was scarcely a man in the +Territory who had not at some time felt the dread of these implacable +enemies. + +By frequent raids on emigrants' wagons and on freighting outfits, the +Indians had succeeded in arming themselves fairly successfully with the +rifle of the white man; and they kept themselves in ammunition by raids +on lonely ranches and by "jumping" or ambushing prospectors and lone +travelers. If a man was outnumbered by Apaches he often shot himself, +for he knew that if captured he would probably be tortured by one of the +fiendish methods made use of by these Indians. If he had a woman with +him it was an act of kindness to shoot her, too, for to her, also, even +if the element of torture were absent, captivity with the Indians would +invariably be an even sadder fate. + +[Illustration: CADY'S SHEEP CAMP ON THE SONOITA, DECEMBER 8, 1914. BUILT +IN 1884] + +Sometimes bands of whites would take the place of the soldiers and +revenge themselves on Apache raiders. There was the raid on the Wooster +ranch, for instance. This ranch was near Tubac. Wooster lived alone on +the ranch with his wife and one hired man. One morning Apaches swooped +down on the place, killed Wooster and carried off his wife. As she has +never been heard of since it has always been supposed that she was +killed. This outrage resulted in the famous "Camp Grant Massacre," the +tale of which echoed all over the world, together with indignant +protests from centers of culture in the East that the whites of Arizona +were "more savage" than the savages themselves. I leave it to the reader +to judge whether this was a fact. + +The Wooster raid and slaughter was merely the culminating tragedy of a +series of murders, robberies and depredations carried on by the Apaches +for years. Soldiers would follow the raiders, kill a few of them in +retaliation, and a few days later another outrage would be perpetrated. +The Apaches were absolutely fearless in the warfare they carried on for +possession of what they, rightly or wrongly, considered their invaded +territory. The Apache with the greatest number of murders to his name +was most highly thought of by his tribe. + +When the Wooster raid occurred I was in Tucson. Everybody in Tucson knew +Wooster and liked him. There was general mourning and a cry for instant +revenge when his murder was heard of. For a long time it had been +believed that the Indians wintering on the government reservation at +Camp Grant, at the expense of Uncle Sam, were the authors of the +numerous raids in the vicinity of Tucson, though until that time it had +been hard to convince the authorities that such was the case. This time, +however, it became obvious that something had to be done. + +The white men of Tucson held a meeting, at which I was present. Sidney +R. De Long, first Mayor of Tucson, was also there. After the meeting had +been called to order De Long rose and said: + +"Boys, this thing has got to be stopped. The military won't believe us +when we tell them that their charity to the Indians is our undoing--that +the government's wards are a pack of murderers and cattle thieves. What +shall we do?" + +"Let the military go hang, and the government, too!" growled one man, +"Old Bill" Oury, a considerable figure in the life of early Tucson, and +an ex-Confederate soldier. + +The meeting applauded. + +"We can do what the soldiers won't," I said. + +"Right!" said Oury, savagely. "Let's give these devils a taste of their +own medicine. Maybe after a few dozen of 'em are killed they'll learn +some respect for the white man." + +Nobody vetoed the suggestion. + +The following day six white men--myself, De Long and fierce old Bill +Oury among them, rode out of Tucson bound for Tubac. With us we had +three Papago Indian trailers. Arrived at the Wooster ranch the Papagos +were set to work and followed a trail that led plain as daylight to the +Indian camp at Fort Grant. A cry escaped all of us at this justification +of our suspicions. + +"That settles it!" ground out Oury, between his set teeth. "It's them +Injuns or us. And--it won't be us." + +We returned to Tucson, rounded up a party consisting of about fifty +Papagos, forty-five Mexicans and ourselves, and set out for Camp Grant. +We reached the fort at break of day, or just before, and before the +startled Apaches could fully awaken to what was happening, or the +near-by soldiers gather their wits together, eighty-seven Aravaipa +Apaches had been slain as they lay. The Papagos accounted for most of +the dead, but we six white men and our Mexican friends did our part. It +was bloody work; but it was justice, and on the frontier then the whites +made their own justice. + +All of us were arrested, as a matter of course, and when word reached +General Sherman at Washington from the commander of the military forces +at Fort Grant, an order was issued that all of us were to be tried for +murder. We suffered no qualms, for we knew that according to frontier +standards what we had done was right, and would inevitably have been +done some time or another by somebody. We were tried in Judge Titus' +Territorial Court, but, to the dismay of the military and General +Sherman, who of course knew nothing of the events that had preceded the +massacre, not a man in the jury could be found who would hang us. The +Territory was searched for citizens impartial enough to adjudge the +slaying of a hostile Apache as murder, but none could be found. The +trial turned out a farce and we were all acquitted, to receive the +greatest demonstration outside the courtroom that men on trial for their +lives ever received in Arizona, I think. One thing that made our +acquittal more than certain was the fact, brought out at the trial, that +the dress of Mrs. Wooster and a pair of moccasins belonging to her +husband were found on the bodies of Indians whom we killed. Lieutenant +Whitman, who was in command at Fort Grant, and on whom the +responsibility for the conduct of the Indians wintering there chiefly +rested, was soon after relieved from duty and transferred to another +post. General George Crook arrived to take his place late in 1871. The +massacre had occurred on the last day of April of that year. + +Other raids occurred. Al Peck, an old and valued friend of mine, had +several experiences with the Apaches, which culminated in the Peck raid +of April 27, 1886, when Apaches jumped his ranch, killed his wife and a +man named Charles Owens and carried off Peck's niece. Apparently +satisfied with this, they turned Peck loose, after burning the ranch +house. The unfortunate man's step-niece was found some six weeks later +by Mexican cowpunchers in the Cocoapi Mountains in Old Mexico. + +The famous massacre of the Samaniego freight teams and the destruction +of his outfit at Cedar Springs, between Fort Thomas and Wilcox, was +witnessed by Charles Beck, another friend of mine. Beck had come in with +a quantity of fruit and was unloading it when he heard a fusilade of +shots around a bend in the road. A moment later a boy came by +helter-skelter on a horse. + +"Apaches!" gasped the boy, and rode on. + +Beck waited to hear no more. He knew that to attack one of Samaniego's +outfits there must be at least a hundred Indians in the neighborhood. +Unhitching his horse, he jumped on its back and rode for dear life in +the direction of Eureka Springs. Indians sighted him as he swept into +the open and followed, firing as they rode. By luck, however, and the +fact that his horse was fresher than those of his pursuers, Beck got +safely away. + +Thirteen men were killed at this Cedar Springs massacre and thousands of +dollars' worth of freight was carried off or destroyed. The raid was +unexpected owing to the fact that the Samaniego brothers had contracts +with the government and the stuff in their outfit was intended for the +very Indians concerned in the ambuscade. One of the Samaniegos was slain +at this massacre. + +Then there was the Tumacacori raid, at Barnett's ranch in the Tumacacori +Mountains, when Charlie Murray and Tom Shaw were killed. Old Man +Frenchy, as he was called, suffered the severe loss of his freight and +teams when the Indians burned them up across the Cienega. Many other +raids occurred, particulars of which are not to hand, but those I have +related will serve as samples of the work of the Indians and will show +just how it was the Apaches gained the name they did of being veritable +fiends in human form. + + * * * * * + +After the expiration of my contract with Paola Ortega I remained in a +state of single blessedness for some time, and then married Gregoria +Sosa, in the summer of 1879. Gregoria rewarded me with one child, a boy, +who is now living in Nogales. On December 23, 1889, Gregoria died and in +October, 1890, I married my present wife, whose maiden name was Donna +Paz Paderes, and who belongs to an old line of Spanish aristocracy in +Mexico. We are now living together in the peace and contentment of old +age, well occupied in bringing up and providing for our family of two +children, Mary, who will be twenty years old on February 25, 1915, and +Charlie, who will be sixteen on the same date. Both our children, by the +grace of God, have been spared us after severe illnesses. + + * * * * * + +To make hundreds of implacable enemies at one stroke is something any +man would very naturally hesitate to do, but I did just that about a +year after I commenced working for D. A. Sanford, one of the biggest +ranchers between the railroad and the border. The explanation of this +lies in one word--sheep. + +If there was one man whom cattlemen hated with a fierce, unreasoning +hatred, it was the man who ran sheep over the open range--a proceeding +perfectly legal, but one which threatened the grazing of the cattle +inasmuch as where sheep had grazed it was impossible for cattle to feed +for some weeks, or until the grass had had time to grow again. Sheep +crop almost to the ground and feed in great herds, close together, and +the range after a herd of sheep has passed over it looks as if somebody +had gone over it with a lawnmower. + +In 1881 I closed out the old Sanford ranch stock and was informed by my +employer that he had foreclosed a mortgage on 13,000 head of sheep owned +by Tully, Ochoa and De Long of Tucson. This firm was the biggest at that +time in the Territory and the De Long of the company was one of the six +men who led the Papagos in the Camp Grant Massacre. He died in Tucson +recently and I am now the only white survivor of that occurrence. Tully, +Ochoa and De Long were forced out of business by the coming of the +railroad in 1880, which cheapened things so much that the large stock +held by the company was sold at prices below what it had cost, +necessitating bankruptcy. + +I was not surprised to hear that Sanford intended to run sheep, though I +will admit that the information was scarcely welcome. Sheep, however, at +that time were much scarcer than cattle and fetched, consequently, much +higher prices. My employer, D. A. Sanford, who now lives in Washington, +D. C., was one of the shrewdest business men in the Territory, and was, +as well, one of the best-natured of men. His business acumen is +testified to by the fact that he is now sufficiently wealthy to count +his pile in the seven figures. + +Mr. Sanford's wishes being my own in the matter, of course, I did as I +was told, closed out the cattle stock and set the sheep grazing on the +range. The cattlemen were angry and sent me an ultimatum to the effect +that if the sheep were not at once taken off the grass there would be +"trouble." I told them that Sanford was my boss, not them; that I would +take his orders and nobody else's, and that until he told me to take the +sheep off the range they'd stay precisely where they were. + +My reply angered the cattlemen more and before long I became subject to +many annoyances. Sheep were found dead, stock was driven off, my ranch +hands were shot at, and several times I myself narrowly escaped death at +the hands of the enraged cattlemen. I determined not to give in until I +received orders to that effect from Mr. Sanford, but I will admit that +it was with a feeling of distinct relief that I hailed those orders when +they came three years later. For one thing, before the sheep business +came up, most of the cattlemen who were now my enemies had been my close +friends, and it hurt me to lose their esteem. I am glad to say, however, +that most of these cattlemen and cowboys, who, when I ran sheep, would +cheerfully have been responsible for my funeral, are my very good +friends at the present time; and I trust they will always remain so. +Most of them are good fellows and I have always admitted that their side +had the best argument. + +In spite of the opposition of the cattlemen I made the sheep business a +paying one for Mr. Sanford, clearing about $17,000 at the end of three +years. When that period had elapsed I had brought shearers to Sanford +Station to shear the sheep, but was stopped in my intention with the +news that Sanford had sold the lot to Pusch and Zellweger of Tucson. I +paid off the men I had hired, satisfied them, and thus closed my last +deal in the sheep business. One of the men, Jesus Mabot, I hired to go +to the Rodeo with me, while the Chinese gardener hired another named +Fernando. + +Then occurred that curious succession of fatalities among the Chinamen +in the neighborhood that puzzled us all for years and ended by its being +impossible to obtain a Chinaman to fill the last man's place. + + + + +DEPUTY SHERIFF, CATTLEMAN AND FARMER + + _You kin have yore Turner sunsets,--he never painted one + Like th' Santa Rita Mountains at th' settin' o' th' sun! + You kin have yore Eastern cornfields, with th' crops that never change, + Me--I've all Arizona, and, best o' all, the Range!_ + --WOON. + + +About this time Sheriff Bob Paul reigned in Tucson and made me one of +his deputies. I had numerous adventures in that capacity, but remember +only one as being worth recording here. + +One of the toughest characters in the West at that time, a man feared +throughout the Territory, was Pat Cannon. He had a score of killings to +his credit, and, finally, when Paul became sheriff a warrant was issued +for his arrest on a charge of murder. After he had the warrant Paul came +to me. + +"Cady," he said, "you know Pat Cannon, don't you?" + +"I worked with him once," I answered. + +"Well," returned Paul, "here's a warrant for his arrest on a murder +charge. Go get him." + +I obtained a carryall and an Italian boy as driver, in Tucson, and +started for Camp Grant. Arrived there I was informed that it was +believed Cannon was at Smithy's wood camp, several miles away. We went +on to Smithy's wood camp. Sure enough, Pat was there--very much so. He +was the first man I spotted as I drove into the camp. Cannon was sitting +at the door of his shack, two revolvers belted on him and his rifle +standing up by the door at his side, within easy reach. I knew that Pat +didn't know that I was a deputy, so I drove right up. + +"Hello," I called. "How's the chance for a game of poker?" + +"Pretty good," he returned, amiably. "Smithy'll be in in a few moments, +John. Stick around--we have a game every night." + +"Sure," I responded, and descended. As I did so I drew my six-shooter +and whirled around, aiming the weapon at him point blank. + +"Hands up, Pat, you son-of-a-gun," I said, and I guess I grinned. +"You're my prisoner." + +I had told the Italian boy what to do, beforehand, and he now gave me +the steel bracelets, which I snapped on Cannon, whose face bore an +expression seemingly a mixture of intense astonishment and disgust. +Finally, when I had him safely in the carryall, he spat out a huge chew +of tobacco and swore. + +He said nothing to me for awhile, and then he remarked, in an injured +way: + +"Wa-al, Johnny, I sure would never have thought it of you!" + +He said nothing more, except to ask me to twist him a cigarette or two, +and when we reached Tucson I turned him over safely to Sheriff Paul. + + * * * * * + +You who read this in your stuffy city room, or crowded subway seat, +imagine, if you can, the following scene: + +Above, the perfect, all-embracing blue of the Arizona sky; set flaming +in the middle of it the sun, a glorious blazing orb whose beauty one may +dare to gaze upon only through smoked glasses; beneath, the Range, +which, far from being a desert, is covered with a growth of grass which +grows thicker and greener as the rivers' banks are reached. + +All around, Arizona--the painted hills, looking as though someone had +carefully swept them early in the morning with a broom; the valleys +studded with mesquite trees and greasewood and dotted here and there +with brown specks which even the uninitiated will know are cattle, and +the river, one of Arizona's minor streams, a few yards across and only a +couple of feet deep, but swift-rushing, pebble-strew'd and clear as +crystal. + +Last, but not least, a heterogeneous mob of cowboys and vaqueros, with +their horses champing at the bit and eager to be off on their work. In +the foreground a rough, unpainted corral, where are more +ponies--wicked-looking, intelligent little beggars, but quick turning as +though they owned but two legs instead of four, and hence priceless for +the work of the roundup. In the distance, some of them quietly and +impudently grazing quite close at hand, are the cattle, the object of +the day's gathering. + +Cowboys from perhaps a dozen or more ranches are gathered here, for this +is the commencement of the Rodeo--the roundup of cattle that takes place +semi-annually. Even ranches whose cattle are not grazed on this +particular range have representatives here, for often there are strays +with brands that show them to have traveled many scores of miles. The +business of the cowboys[3] is to round up and corral the cattle and pick +out their own brands from the herd. They then see that the unbranded +calves belonging to cows of their brand are properly marked with the hot +iron and with the ear-slit, check up the number of yearlings for the +benefit of their employers, and take charge of such of the cattle it is +considered advisable to drive back to the home ranch. + +So much sentimental nonsense has been talked of the cruelty of branding +and slitting calves that it is worth while here, perhaps, to state +positively that the branding irons do not penetrate the skin and serve +simply to burn the roots of the hair so that the bald marks will show +to which ranch the calf belongs. There is little pain to the calf +attached to the operation, and one rarely if ever even sees a calf +licking its brand after it has been applied; and, as is well known, the +cow's remedy for an injury, like that of a dog, is always to lick it. As +to the ear-slitting, used by most ranches as a check on their brands, it +may be said that if the human ear is somewhat callous to pain--as it +is--the cow's ear is even more so. One may slice a cow's ear in half in +a certain way and she will feel only slight pain, not sufficient to make +her give voice. The slitting of a cow's ear draws very little blood. + +While I am on the subject,--it was amusing to note the unbounded +astonishment of the cattlemen of Arizona a few years ago when some +altruistic society of Boston came forward with a brilliant idea that was +to abolish the cruelty of branding cows entirely. What was the idea? Oh, +they were going to hang a collar around the cow's neck, with a brass tag +on it to tell the name of the owner. Or, if that wasn't feasible, they +thought that a simple ring and tag put through the cow's ear-lobe would +prove eminently satisfactory! The feelings of the cowboys, when told +that they would be required to dismount from their horses, walk up to +each cow in turn and politely examine her tag, perhaps with the aid of +spectacles, may be better imagined than described. It is sufficient to +say that the New England society's idea never got further than +Massachusetts, if it was, indeed, used there, which is doubtful. + +The brand is absolutely necessary as long as there is an open range, and +the abolishment of the open range will mean the abandonment of the +cow-ranch. At the time I am speaking of the whole of the Territory of +Arizona was one vast open range, over the grassy portions of which +cattle belonging to hundreds of different ranches roamed at will. Most +of the big ranches employed a few cowboys the year around to keep the +fences in repair and to prevent cows from straying too far from the home +range. The home range was generally anywhere within a twenty-mile radius +of the ranch house. + +The ear-slit was first found necessary because of the activities of the +rustlers. There were two kinds of these gentry--the kind that owned +ranches and passed themselves off as honest ranchers, and the open +outlaws, who drove off cattle by first stampeding them in the Indian +manner, rushed them across the international line and then sold them to +none too scrupulous Mexican ranchers. Of the two it is difficult to say +which was the most dangerous or the most reviled by the honest +cattlemen. The ranches within twenty or thirty miles of the border, +perhaps, suffered more from the stampeders than from the small ranchers, +but those on the northern ranges had constantly to cope with the +activities of dishonest cattlemen who owned considerably more calves +than they had cows, as a rule. The difficulty was to prove that these +calves had been stolen. + +It was no difficult thing to steal cattle successfully, providing the +rustler exercised ordinary caution. The method most in favor among the +rustlers was as follows: For some weeks the rustler would ride the +range, noting where cows with unbranded calves were grazing. Then, when +he had ascertained that no cowboys from neighboring ranches were riding +that way, he would drive these cows and their calves into one of the +secluded and natural corrals with which the range abounds, rope the +calves, brand them with his own brand, hobble and sometimes kill the +mother cows to prevent them following their offspring, and drive the +latter to his home corral, where in the course of a few weeks they would +forget their mothers and be successfully weaned. They would then be +turned out to graze on the Range. Sometimes when the rustler did not +kill the mother cow the calf proved not to have been successfully +weaned, and went back to its mother--the worst possible advertisement of +the rustler's dirty work. Generally, therefore, the mother cow was +killed, and little trace left of the crime, for the coyotes speedily +cleaned flesh, brand and all from the bones of the slain animal. The +motto of most of these rustlers was: "A dead cow tells no tales!" + +[Illustration: CADY AND HIS THIRD FAMILY, 1915] + +Another method of the rustlers was to adopt a brand much like that of a +big ranch near by, and to over-brand the cattle. For instance, a big +ranch with thousands of cattle owns the brand Cross-Bar (X--). The +rustler adopts the brand Cross L (XL) and by the addition of a vertical +mark to the bar in the first brand completely changes the brand. It was +always a puzzle for the ranchers to find brands that would not be easily +changed. Rustlers engaged in this work invariably took grave chances, +for a good puncher could tell a changed brand in an instant, and often +knew every cow belonging to his ranch by sight, without looking at the +brand. When one of these expert cowboys found a suspicious brand he lost +no time hunting up proof, and if he found that there had actually been +dirty work, the rustler responsible, if wise, would skip the country +without leaving note of his destination, for in the days of which I +speak the penalty for cow-stealing was almost always death, except when +the sheriff happened to be on the spot. Since the sheriff was invariably +heart and soul a cattleman himself, he generally took care that he +wasn't anywhere in the neighborhood when a cattle thief met his just +deserts. Even now this rule holds effect in the cattle lands. Only two +years ago a prominent rancher in this country--the Sonoita Range--shot +and killed a Mexican who with a partner had been caught red-handed in +the act of stealing cattle. + +With the gradual disappearance of the open range, cattle stealing has +practically stopped, although one still hears at times of cases of the +kind, isolated, but bearing traces of the same old methods. Stampeding +is, of course, now done away with. + +During the years I worked for D. A. Sanford I had more or less trouble +all the time with cattle thieves, but succeeded fairly well in either +detecting the guilty ones or in getting back the stolen cattle. I meted +out swift and sure justice to rustlers, and before long it became +rumored around that it was wise to let cattle with the D.S. brand alone. +The Sanford brand was changed three times. The D.S. brand I sold to the +Vail interests for Sanford, and the Sanford brand was changed to the +Dipper, which, afterwards, following the closing out of the Sanford +stock, was again altered to the Ninety-Seven (97) brand. Cattle with the +97 brand on them still roam the range about the Sonoita. + + * * * * * + +It was to a rodeo similar to the one which I have attempted to describe +that Jesus Mabot and I departed following the incident of the selling of +the sheep. We were gone a week. When we returned I put up my horse and +was seeing that he had some feed when a shout from Jesus, whom I had +sent to find the Chinese gardener to tell him we needed something to +eat, came to my ears. + +"Oyez, Senor Cady!" Jesus was crying, "El Chino muerte." + +I hurried down to the field where Mabot stood and found him gazing at +the Chinaman, who was lying face downward near the fence, quite dead. +By the smell and the general lay-out, I reckoned he had been dead some +three days. + +I told Mabot to stay with him and, jumping on my horse, rode to +Crittenden, where I obtained a coroner and a jury that would sit on the +Chinaman's death. The next morning the jury found that he had been +killed by some person or persons unknown, and let it go at that. + +Two weeks later I had occasion to go to Tucson, and on tying my horse +outside the Italian Brothers' saloon, noticed a man I thought looked +familiar sitting on the bench outside. As I came up he pulled his hat +over his face so that I could not see it. I went inside, ordered a +drink, and looked in the mirror. It gave a perfect reflection of the man +outside, and I saw that he was the Mexican Fernando, whom the Chinese +gardener had hired when I had engaged Mabot. I had my suspicions right +then as to who had killed the Chinaman, but, having nothing by which to +prove them, I was forced to let the matter drop. + +Two or three years after this I hired as vaquero a Mexican named +Neclecto, who after a year quit work and went for a visit to Nogales. +Neclecto bought his provisions from the Chinaman who kept the store I +had built on the ranch, and so, as we were responsible for the debt, +when Bob Bloxton, son-in-law of Sanford, came to pay the Mexican off, he +did so in the Chinaman's store. + +The next morning Neclecto accompanied Bloxton to the train, and, looking +back, Bob saw, the Mexican and another man ride off in the direction of +the ranch. After it happened Neclecto owned up that he had been in the +Chinaman's that night drinking, but insisted that he had left without +any trouble with the yellow-skinned storekeeper. But from that day +onward the Chinaman was never seen again. + +Bloxton persuaded me to return to the ranch from Nogales and we visited +the Chinaman's house, where we found the floor dug up as though somebody +had been hunting treasure. My wife found a $10 gold piece hidden in a +crack between the 'dobe bricks and later my son, John, unearthed twelve +Mexican dollars beneath some manure in the hen-coop. Whether this had +belonged to the Chinaman, Louey, who had disappeared, or to another +Chinaman who had been staying with him, we could not determine. At any +rate, we found no trace of Louey or his body. + +Even this was not to be the end of the strange series of fatalities to +Chinamen on the Sanford ranch. In 1897 I quit the Sanford foremanship +after working for my employer seventeen years, and turned the ranch over +to Amos Bloxton, another son-in-law of Sanford. I rented agricultural +land from Sanford and fell to farming. Near my place Crazy John, a +Chinaman, had his gardens, where he made 'dobe bricks besides growing +produce. + +We were living then in the old store building and the Chinaman was +making bricks about a quarter of a mile away with a Mexican whom he +employed. One day we found him dead and the Mexican gone. After that, as +was natural, we could never persuade a Chinaman to live anywhere near +the place. I later built a house of the bricks the Chinaman was making +when he met his death. The Mexican escaped to Sonora, came back when he +thought the affair had blown over and went to work for the railroad at +Sonoita. There he had a fracas with the section foreman, stabbed him and +made off into the hills. Sheriff Wakefield from Tucson came down to get +the man and shot him dead near Greaterville, which ended the incident. + +In the preceding I have mentioned the railroad. This was the +Benson-Hermosillo road, built by the Santa Fe and later sold to the +Southern Pacific, which extended the line to San Blas in Coahuila, and +which is now in process of extending it further to the city of Tepic. I +was one of those who helped survey the original line from Benson to +Nogales--I think the date was 1883. + +In future times I venture to state that this road will be one of the +best-paying properties of the Southern Pacific Company, which has had +the courage and foresight to open up the immensely rich empire of +Western Mexico. The west coast of Mexico is yet in the baby stage of its +development. The revolutions have hindered progress there considerably, +but when peace comes at last and those now shouldering arms for this +and that faction in the Republic return to the peaceful vocations they +owned before the war began, there is no doubt that the world will stand +astonished at the riches of this, at present, undeveloped country. There +are portions of the West Coast that have never been surveyed, that are +inhabited to this day with peaceful Indians who have seldom seen a white +face. The country is scattered with the ruins of wonderful temples and +cathedrals and, doubtless, much of the old Aztec treasure still lies +buried for some enterprising fortune-seeker to unearth. There are also +immense forests of cedar and mahogany and other hard woods to be cut; +and extensive areas of land suitable for sugar planting and other +farming to be brought under cultivation. When all this is opened up the +West Coast cannot help taking its place as a wonderfully rich and +productive region. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[Footnote 3: The term "cowpuncher" is not common in Arizona as in +Montana, but the Arizona cowboys are sometimes called "vaqueros."] + + + + +IN AGE THE CRICKET CHIRPS AND BRINGS-- + + _A faltering step on life's highway, + A grip on the bottom rung; + A few good deeds done here and there, + And my life's song is sung. + It's not what you get in pelf that counts, + It's not your time in the race, + For most of us draw the slower mounts, + And our deeds can't keep the pace. + It's for each what he's done of kindness, + And for each what he's done of cheer, + That goes on the Maker's scorebook + With each succeeding year._ + --WOON. + + +While I was farming on the Sanford ranch a brother-in-law of D. A. +Sanford, Frank Lawrence by name, came to live with me. Frank was a +splendid fellow and we were fast friends. + +One day during the Rodeo we were out where the vaqueros were working and +on our return found our home, a 'dobe house, burned down, and all our +belongings with it, including considerable provisions. My loss was +slight, for in those days I owned a prejudice against acquiring any more +worldly goods than I could with comfort pack on my back; but Frank lost +a trunk containing several perfectly good suits of clothes and various +other more or less valuable articles which he set great store by, +besides over a hundred dollars in greenbacks. We hunted among the ruins, +of course, but not a vestige of anything savable did we find. + +Three days later, however, Sanford himself arrived and took one look at +the ruins. Then, without a word, he started poking about with his stick. +From underneath where his bed had been he dug up a little box containing +several hundred dollars in greenbacks, and from the earth beneath the +charred ruins of the chest of drawers he did likewise. Then he stood up +and laughed at us. I will admit that he had a perfect right to laugh. +He, the one man of the three of us who could best afford to lose +anything, was the only man whose money had been saved. Which only goes +to prove the proverbial luck of the rich man. + +Not long after this experience I moved to Crittenden, where I farmed +awhile, running buggy trips to the mines in the neighborhood as a side +line. + +One day a man named Wheeler, of Wheeler & Perry, a Tucson merchandise +establishment, came to Crittenden and I drove him out to Duquesne. On +the way Wheeler caught sight of a large fir-pine tree growing on the +slope of a hill. He pointed to it and said: + +"Say, John, I'd give something to have that tree in my house at +Christmas." + +It was then a week or so to the twenty-fifth of December. + +I glanced at the tree and asked him: + +"You would, eh? Now, about how much would you give?" + +"I'd give five dollars," he said. + +"Done!" I said. "You give me five dollars and count that tree yours for +Christmas!" And we shook hands on it. + +A few days later I rigged up a wagon, took along three Mexicans with +axes, and cut a load of Christmas trees--I think there were some three +hundred in the load. Then I drove the wagon to Tucson and after +delivering Wheeler his especial tree and receiving the stipulated five +dollars for it, commenced peddling the rest on the streets. + +And, say! Those Christmas trees sold like wildfire. Everybody wanted +one. I sold them for as low as six-bits and as high as five dollars, and +before I left pretty nearly everybody in Tucson owned one of my trees. + +When I counted up I found that my trip had netted me, over and above +expenses, just one thousand dollars. + +This, you will have to admit, was some profit for a load of Christmas +trees. Sad to relate, however, a year later when I tried to repeat the +performance, I found about forty other fellows ahead of me loaded to the +guards with Christmas trees of all kinds and sizes. For a time Christmas +trees were cheaper than mesquite brush as the overstocked crowd +endeavored to unload on an oversupplied town. I escaped with my outfit +and my life but no profits--that time. + + * * * * * + +On December 15, 1900, I moved to Patagonia, which had just been born on +the wave of the copper boom. I rented a house, which I ran successfully +for one year, and then started the building of the first wing of the +Patagonia Hotel, which I still own and run; together with a dance-hall, +skating rink and restaurant. Since that first wing was built the hotel +has changed considerably in appearance, for whenever I got far enough +ahead to justify it, I built additions. I think I may say that now the +hotel is one of the best structures of its kind in the county. I am +considering the advisability of more additions, including a large +skating rink and dance-hall, but the copper situation does not justify +me in the outlay at present. + +I am entirely satisfied with my location, however. Patagonia is not a +large place, but it is full of congenial friends and will one day, when +the copper industry again finds its feet, be a large town. It is in the +very heart of the richest mining zone in the world, if the assayers are +to be believed. Some of the mining properties, now nearly all +temporarily closed down, are world-famous--I quote for example the Three +R., the World's Fair, the Flux, the Santa Cruz, the Hardshell, the +Harshaw, the Hermosa, the Montezuma, the Mansfield and the Mowry. + +This last, nine miles from Patagonia, was a producer long before the +Civil War. Lead and silver mined at the Mowry were transported to +Galveston to be made into bullets for the war--imagine being hit with a +silver bullet! In 1857 Sylvester Mowry, owner of the Mowry mine and one +of the earliest pioneers of Arizona, was chosen delegate to Congress by +petition of the people, but was not admitted to his seat. Mowry was +subsequently banished from Arizona by Commander Carleton and his mine +confiscated for reasons which were never quite clear. + + * * * * * + +My purpose in writing these memoirs is two-fold: First, I desired that +my children should have a record which could be referred to by them +after I am gone; and, secondly, that the State of Arizona, my adopted +home, should be the richer for the possession of the facts I have at my +disposal. + +I want the reader to understand that even though the process of +evolution has taken a life-time, I cannot cease wondering at the +marvelous development of the Territory and, later, State of Arizona. +When I glance back over the vista of years and see the old, and then +open my eyes to survey the new, it is almost as though a Verne or a +Haggard sketch had come to life. + +Who, in an uneventful stop-over at Geronimo, Graham county, would +believe that these same old Indians who sit so peacefully mouthing their +cigarros at the trading store were the terrible Apaches of former +days--the same avenging demons who murdered emigrants, fought the +modernly-equipped soldier with bow and arrow, robbed and looted right +and left and finally were forced to give in to their greatest enemy, +Civilization. And who shall begin to conjecture the thoughts that now +and again pass through the brains of these old Apache relics, living now +so quietly on the bounty of a none-too-generous government? What dreams +of settlement massacres, of stage robberies, of desperate fights, they +may conjure up until the wheezy arrival of the Arizona Eastern +locomotive disperses their visions with the blast of sordid actuality! + +For the Arizona that I knew back in the Frontier days was the embodiment +of the Old West--the West of sudden fortune and still more sudden death; +the West of romance and of gold; of bad whiskey and doubtful women; of +the hardy prospector and the old cattleman, who must gaze a little sadly +back along the trail as they near the end of it, at thought of the days +that may never come again. + +And now I myself am reaching the end of my long and eventful journey, +and I can say, bringing to mind my youth and all that followed it, that +I have _lived_, really _lived_, and I am content. + + +THE END. + + + + + +-----------------------------------------------+ + | Transcriber's Note: | + | | + | Typographical errors corrected in the text: | + | | + | Page 80 recklesssly changed to recklessly | + | Page 82 Wickenberg changed to Wickenburg | + +-----------------------------------------------+ + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Arizona's Yesterday, by +John H. 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