COPYRIGHTED 1906
BY
MELVILLE A. POLLOCK
MANSFIELD, OHIO

EDITED AND PUBLISHED BY
MELVILLE A, POLLOCK, MANSFIELD, OHIO

FROM THE PRESS OF
GEO. HOLM & BRO MANSFIELD, OHIO

Huntinc Bic GamME

PNG EE

DIEFRRAS OF CHIHUAHUA

WRITTEN BY

DONALD A, CARPENTER

LIBRARY of CONGRESS
Two Copies Received

YAN 13 1906

Copyright Entry
ac. $8. 1 90L
LASS Q@ XXc. No
ie be Rew
COPY B.

GOVERNOR CREEL
OF CHIHUAHUA

TO MEXICO’S EMINENT STATESMAN

PNRIOUE Rail
GOVERNOR

OF THE
STATE OF CHIHUAHUA

THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED

FOREWORD

QIN the preparation of this volume,I was not actuated
by the belief that it would receive recognition be-

cause of any literary value, nor had I the temerity

to even hope that a perusal of its pages would
suggest to the reader the possibility of the author’s pos-
sesing undeveloped literary genius.

In reviewing the delightful experiences and happy in-
cidents of our two weeks’ ramblings in the great Sierras,
it is not with the thought, or even remote ambition, that
the reader will be charmed by classic style or rhetorical
embellishments, but with the hope that I may be able to
convey to him, even though imperfectly, something of the
keen enjoyment of outdoor life when hunting big game,
and the infinite pleasure experienced when surrounded
on every hand by mighty evidences of nature’s most sub-

lime and magnificent works.

To those whose spirit calls them to the wild, and in
the fastnesses of the forest depths or among the crags
and peaks of the mountains finds harmony with nature

and nature’s God, I commend this little volume.

4

PARG ONE

=aqiF the reader, on October 23, 1905, about eight o’clock
in the morning, had been standing at the United
States end of the International Bridge which joins
El Paso with Cuidad Juarez, he would have recog-
nized a hunting party rapidly approaching, the objective
point of which was evidently somewhere beyond the Rio
Grande.

Piled in an express wagon were boxes, bedding and
general camp equipment, on the top of which the writer
and his friends were vainly trying to maintain their equi-
librium as the Mexican driver urged his team over the
rough road towards “ Mafiana land.”

The “Rio Grande, Sierra Madre and Pacific” train we
were to take to Casas Grandes, where we would outfit
for the hunting grounds, was due to leave at nine o'clock,
and as it was now eight, with the ordeal of the customs’
inspection before us, we were somewhat uneasy lest the
Mexican customs officials would delay the inspection of
our equipment so we would miss our train. As the busi-
ness of the Sierra Madre road does not justify running
trains but three times a week, and our time was limited,
this would indeed have been a calamity.

We were soon across the river and in charge of the
customs’ guards, who, after much discussion, profound
consideration and a delay equal to one-third of the re-
maining hour before train time, finally decided ours was

Page Nine

an unusual case, and that we could only be inspected
properly at the Aduana (custom house). Therefore, ac-
companied by a guard, we were conducted to said estab-
lishment and presented to an official who searched our
baggage, unrolled our bedding, delved into the bottom of
our provision boxes and then gravely questioned the ad-
visability of allowing our arms to be passed, it being the
ruling, it seems, to not allow guns or ammunition to enter
the country without absolute assurance that they will
not pass into the hands of rebellious Indians.

Time is of little consequence in “ Mafiana land,” and
the fact that we had less than forty minutes remaining
before train time in which to complete the inspection, did
not disturb our customs friend in the least, he assuring
us when we suggested that matters be hurried somewhat,
“that we would have more than ample time.” But all
things come to those who can patiently wait and not aud-
ibly “cuss,” even in Mexico, and finally we persuaded
our offical friend that we were not bandits or in league
with the Yaquis, and-after suggesting our arms be regis-
tered in order that he might be assured of their return to
the States, he decided we would be a “ safe risk,” issued
our inspection credentials and allowed us to pass.

We reached the station in sufficient time, as the train
was fortunately delayed, and were soon on our way to
the country of bright anticipations and pleasant prospects,
the home of the deer, mountain lion and bear, whose so-
ciety we hoped to successfully cultivate the following two

Page Ten

weeks. At seven o'clock in the evening we arrived at
Nueva Casas Grandes, one hundred and sixty-five miles
from El Paso, and after an unmentionable and indigesti-
ble supper at a Chinese restaurant, started out to find
Mr. Pink Robertson, an eminent citizen of the village,
whose business is the retailing of spirituous liquors and
the furnishing of transportation facilities and dogs to
hunting parties.

We soon satisfactorily negotiated with “Pink” for
mules, horses and saddles, but a satisfactory guide could
not be found; consequently, instead of leaving the fol-
lowing morning bright and early for the hunting grounds,
as we had anticipated, we consumed the entire day look-
ing for a proper person, finally securing him at old Casas
Grandes, some four miles away. After a game of “ five
hundred” and a sound sleep in a Chinese bed, the clean-
liness of which we will not discuss, by the light of the
morning star, at four o’clock we began preparations for
the journey to the mountains.

Wednesday morning, by seven-thirty, we were on our
way, with two mules loaded to the gunwales with good
things to eat, and three horses carrying “ shooting-irons,”
rain-proof coats and “Gringoes” surcharged with bright
anticipations and iridescent dreams. Never was a morn-
ing more beautiful. The rainy season had just passed.
The prairie grass had attained its full development and
was slowly curing in the bright sunshine; every blade
bore ornaments of dew, which, like diamonds, reflected

Page Eleven

—'‘*we were on our way’

all the colors of the rainbow. The blue sky merged into
the brown Escondidas in the east and away off to the
westward formed a rich background for the bright hued
coloring of the peaks of the Grand Sierras. Nature seemed
on every hand to be making a strenuous effort to portray
the magnificence of her works. Flowers were blooming
in variegated colors and giving forth sweet odors which
were wafted across the prairie by the salubrious breezes.
The feathered creatures were discussing domestic affairs
among the trees on the river bank, and the mocking bird
was singing his last encore before retiring for the day
—truly a pleasing picture and one calculated to make the
soul of man grateful for the privilege of enjoying the
beautiful things of earth.

Our first day’s journey seemed of interminable length,
and though we traveled only from seven until five, with
about an hour for lunch, I would, without the least hesi-
tancy, have agreed to the proposition that the world
stopped turning for a while, and we were in the saddle
for at least twice as long a time. I had not ridden for
years, and in nature’s endeavor to adjust my anatomy to
the saddle, it seemed at times as though my legs would
crack and a new covering of flesh be immediately neces-
sary to save the saddle leather from my bones, which
were slowly but surely grinding their way down onto its
hard surface. I would not have been surprised at any
time during the day to have found myself destitute of
lower limbs, they having broken off and fallen by the

Page Thirteen

wayside, leaving me as legless as a circus monstrosity.
However, all things in this material world must end, and
this day of excruciating experiences was no exception.
The night came and we camped.

With painstaking effort I removed myself from the
back of “Muchacho Negro,” my horse, and by careful
manipulation managed to adjust myself on a soft sand
bank with my legs stretched out before me, my back
against a rock and like Micawber, waited “for something
to turn up.” I had not long to wait, for I was soon re-
minded by the Treasurer and Manager of our party, that
“as ye labor, so shall ye be rewarded,” and that if we
expected to satisfy the inner-man and prepare a place to
sleep, we must get busy, and that mighty quick.

I shall never forget our first supper in the Las Tinajas
Canon. By the side of the Tinajas Creek, in the shelter
of a large rock, we made our camp and prepared a meal
—of beans, “sowbelly” and strong coffee—which cer-
tainly would have pleased the Gods, at least had they -
had as strenuous a day as we, and been as hungry. A
man never knows his consuming capacity until he has had
an opportunity to develop it by vigorous out-of-door life..
He may, perhaps, imagine that nature has equipped him
with digestive apparatus of small proportions, bit in this
he is mistaken. It is as susceptible of extension as a bal-
loon, and unless he is unlike ordinary men, it practically
has no limit. Food will disappear into it like iron ore into
a whaleback, and the only thing that will cause him to

Page Fourteen

stop, is the fear that his reputation for decency will be
questioned, or the limit of the frying pan and coffee pot.
I will not dwell long on our first night in camp—the
remembrance is too painful.

In order that we might save weight for the pack ani-
mals, we decided on leaving Casas Grandes to join bunks
—that is, combine our bedding and sleep three in a bed.
This would have been satisfactory had we not overlooked
the fact that the ordinary army blankets, with which we
were equipped, were not quite as wide as necessary for
this purpose, and therefore, those sleeping on the out-
side, unless very careful, could not help occasionally,
if very restless, but raise the edge of the blankets, letting
in a fresh breath of frosty night air. It seemed as if
nearly every muscle that had been stretched, distorted
and pounded on the saddle during the day got between
our bodies and the ground during the night, the conse-
quence being we rolled and tumbled around, kicked and
hammered each other, squeezed the fellow in the middle
till he grunted like a porpoise, let in enough cold air under
the covers to freeze an Esquimaux, and so finally wore out
the night. The words that were said as we © butted”
each other, and the expressions uttered in our dreams
that night, will never be recorded—and it is well they
should not. It is better that some things in life be for-
gotten quickly.

Let us draw the curtain and pass over our first night
on Las Tinajas.

Page Fifteen

PART TWO

MMEDIATELY upon leaving camp the following
morning we started off to the southward, follow-
ing an old trail and began climbing the mountains,
having left the main traveled road in the Tinajas

Cafion. We had not traveled far when we realized we
were in game country, as deer tracks became plentiful,
also signs of turkeys and bob cats. About noon we
came to a beautiful little “valle seco” (dry valley) where
deer signs were plentiful, and upon consultation with
our guide, who advised us that water was near at hand,
we decided to camp and spend a day or so hunting.

After dinner we separated, it falling to my lot to hunt
off to the southeastward, the others going in the opposite
direction. I had probably gone a quarter of a mile from
camp, when I saw two bucks feeding two or three hundred
yards distant. I dropped on one knee, using the other for
a rest, took careful aim and fired. The deer acted as if
he had been hit, but jumped behind some scrub oak and
disappeared. Because the sights of my rifle were not
correct and it therefore was shooting high, I decided that
my shot had not mortally wounded the animal, it not be-
ing injured so severely but that it could easily get away,
and I would probably have a long chase after it,if indeed
I ever saw it again. What was my surprise on reaching
a point near where the deer had been feeding, to find it
lying in its last throes, my shot having passed entirely

Page Sixteen

through its vital organs. Probably a more surprised in-
dividual than I never lived. I had no idea my shot had
been fatal, yet there was a fine big buck, the product
of my skill (perhaps I should say luck) lying at my feet.
I was so amazed at my success, and elated at my good
fortune, that I became somewhat excited, and in the exub-
erance of my joy and satisfaction because of having
proven my prowess as a hunter (I forgot at the moment
it was mostly luck) I turned myself loose and yelled and
cavorted around that deer like a Navajo Indian ata snake
dance.

Finally the idea occurred to me that this exhibition of
my gratification, while yielding me immense satisfaction,
was not meeting the emergencies of the situation, and
that the deer must be taken to camp. It never entered
my mind to cut it’s throat and dress it in order to lessen
the weight, as I should have done immediately, but instead
I tried to get it on my back, but to shouldera big wobbly
buck, which probably weighs fully 175 pounds is no easy
task, and after several attempts it occurred to me that the
best way to take the meat to camp would be to geta mule
and pack it in.

After noting the location, as I supposed, so I might re-
turn to it without trouble, I hurried off to camp, advised
Valentine of my good luck, had him put a pack saddle on
a mule, and we started back to get the deer. After going
some little distance, I indicated where I thought it was
located, but what was my surprise and chagrin to find I

Page Seventeen

had in my excitement failed to note my bearings as care-
fully as I should have done, and the deer for the time be-
ing, was lost. We tied the mule to a tree and for nearly
an hour thoroughly searched the surrounding woods,
finally locating the deer about a quarter of a mile from
the place we first looked for it. To the uninitiated it might
seem strange that a person would thus easily lose his
bearings, but if the reader has ever been out in the path-
less woods where there are no landmarks, and positions
must be determined from the relative location of the trees,
he will easily understand how difficult it is to relocate a
point, unless he approach it from the same direction
from which he left it.

On our return to camp Valentine and I skinned and
cleaned the deer ; that is, Valentine did most of the work
and I stood by and made suggestions in my classical
Spanish, which I could easily see required an earnest
mental effort on his part, at times, to understand. The
Mexican, however, is a most polite individual, and Valen-
tine, being no exception, he would not for the world have
indicated by word or deed, but that my Spanish was as
understandable as a native’s. We had completed our task
and were preparing a suitable place to sleep when the
Treasurer returned. While some distance away I fancied
I noticed a look on his countenance of disappointment
and supreme disgust. “What luck?” I asked. “None,”
said he, and continued, “I don't believe there is a deer in
the whole —— -— country.” “Plenty of them,” said I,

Page Etghtcen

—‘ on our return to camp”’

“only it requires a little skill to get them.” “Oh, h—I,”
he remarked, “ give it to us easy.” “Well,” I responded,
“T didn’t find it any trouble to get a deer, and you might
go over to that tree yonder and examine it—there it is.”

I have seen many surprised individuals, but I think
our Treasurer’s countenance depicted more real surprise
and perhaps chagrin at that moment, than I had ever seen
before, and it was especially acute, perhaps, because of
the fact that he had been recounting tales of his prowess
as a hunter ever since we had started on the trip, and
only the day before had insisted that when I saw my first
deer I would experience “ buck fever.” So certain was
he that he was correct in his prophecy, that he was will-
ing to back it up with a substantial wager. Well, we are
ali liable to miss the mark at times as we go through life,
especially so when betting against luck, and the Treas-
urer, after the shock wore off, sincerely congratulated me
on my success and the camp on having fresh meat, of
which we were sorely in need.

Page Twenty

PART THREE

YIHE second night out was not so uncomfortable as
the first. We traveled only a short distance dur-
ing the day, not enough to distress us. The cli-

mate on the mountain top was much more agree-
able than in the Tinajas Cafion, and we were becoming ac-
customed to sleeping on the ground.

Being desirous of starting early, I got up at four o'clock,
made a large fire and prepared breakfast. I had no trou-
ble in arousing the guide, he responding to my sugges-
tion to awaken and arise without question, but not so
with the Treasurer or the Photographer. They seemed
to be completely lost in slumber, Morpheus for the time
being, having removed them from earthly cares —not even
the appetizing odor of the cooking venison or the aroma
of the boiling coffee coupled with vehement urgings on my
part disturbed them. Finally, after a period of pleading
and expostulation, the Treasurer sleepily suggested, “I
suppose the killing of that deer is responsible for all this
racket and early rising, and, if Carpenter should kill a
bear, presume he would sit up and cook bear steaks all
night.”

Valentine and I began to eat breakfast by the light of
the big camp-fire, and eventually we were joined by our
sleepy and disgruntled “compadres.” Breakfast was fin-
ished and the camp put in order before daylight, and as
the first rays of light began to lessen the brilliancy of

Page Twenty-One

the morning star, we shouldered our rifles and started
out for a hunt, which we hoped would be rewarded with
at least one additional deer. We were to be disappointed
however, and about nine o'clock returned to camp, packed
up and started for a country some fifteen miles distant,
where the guide informed us he had hunted deer success-
fully a year or so before.

But luck was not to be with us this day, for though
we reached our destination early and hunted faithfully all
the afternoon, our efforts were without result. Evidently
something must be done. We were out for deer and must
have them. Valentine was appealed to. He stated he
knew of a certain locality, probably twenty miles distant,
where he had been the year before with a hunting party,
which had secured all the game wanted in two days, but
the trail was very rough and it would probably require a
day to go there. We decided that though our time was -
limited, it would be best to go further and take the chance
of securing all the game wanted and could pack out ina
short time, rather than’ perhaps none at all nearer civili-
zation, where it had probably been hunted out. Accord-
ingly we left early the following morning for the country.
Valentine had recommended, and by ten o'clock began to
see deer signs, showing that we were certainly getting
into a section where they were more plentiful.

In the afternoon we entered a very rough country, and
descending by a steep and tortuous trail, which we at
times feared would be disasterous to the pack mules, fin-

Page Twenty-Two

ally reaching a beautiful valley where we found abundant
grass, magnificent timber, and a stream of pure ice cold
water.

The rays of the afternoon sun, when we reached the
trail at the bottom of the canon, were beginning to play
hide and seek between the peaks and crags of the moun-
tain tops, and as the soft glow of the descending sun was
reflected from the various hued rocks on the summits into
the variegated verdure in the cafion’s depths, which had
been tinged with the autumn frosts, it presented a pano-
rama of loveliness and grandeur which no artist could
portray. For probably ten miles we rode through this
dream of beauty. The leaves of the sycamores were
changing to a bright yellow and the oaks were draped in
scarlet. The willows blended their shades of variegated
colors, and woven through and back of all was the rich
dark green of the pine and hemlock.

In places the cafion narrowed down to a mere pas-
sageway through solid rock, the walls of which rose to
stupendous heights and over the rock-paved floor the
water rushed, through which we carefully found our way.
Had we been so unfortunate as to have been caught in
this place during a freshet or cloud-burst, which often oc-
curs in the mountains, we would in all probability, have
been drowned, as there was no possible chance of es-
cape. We photographed our outft at this point, and very
properly named the cafion “ Paseo del Diablo” (Pass of
the Devil).

Page Tweuty-Three

—‘‘and very properly named the canon ‘ Paseo del Diablo’
(Pass of the Devil) ’’

About dusk our guide announced that we were near
the “promised land,” and soon he indicated a little side
valley, where, he stated, his party had camped the year
before, and near which they had found game in abund-
ance. We immediately located a suitable place and made
camp, but not before our Treasurer had the misfortune to
receive from “ Buckskin,” his saddle-horse, an ugly and
vicious kick, which caused him great distress for several
days.

“Buckskin” was a mongrel any way you would size
him up. He was chock full and loaded down with cussed-
ness of the nastiest kind. He had a benign countenance
and an enchanting eye of liquid loveliness that would win
the affection and melt the heart of a savage. But woe
betide him who placed his confidence in “ Buck.” He
would stand on his front legs and kick at the clouds, just
to keep in practice, and in the art of bucking, he was the
“real thing.” When the spirit moved him, he would rear
up on his hind legs and knock off the fisher’s hornpipe
with the ease and grace of a professional, then he would
reverse and whale away at the clouds; after a time
would come down onto all four feet in a sort of stiff leg-
ged staccato movement that was warranted to shake a
man’s liver down into his boots, then end the perform-
ance, if he had failed to dismount his rider, with a lookin
those bewitching orbs of the deepest sorrow and humil-
iation. Surely “ Buck” was a “corker,” but as he sinned,
so was he sinned against, and I believe if the Treasurer

Page Twenty-Five

had not felt it his duty and made it his especial business,
several times each day, through severe discipline, to lead
his horseship into paths of rectitude, the Treasurer's
disposition would certainly have been more amiable, and
“ Buck "—well, he had no virtues, and we might just as
well not discuss him. It was his nature to be “ ornery,”
and like some people he couldn't help it.

In memory of the contact of “Buck's” foot against
the Treasurer's leg, we named this little valley in which
we were camped, “Cafion de le Patada” (Cafion of the
Kick).

Page Twenty-Six

PARG FOUR

there could be no question, as the day before
on our way up Marrano Canon, we had seen
mountain lion and deer tracks in abundance.
As there was to be considerable cooking done to put our
- larder in shape, we having exhausted our stock of bread
which we brought with us, and as I had already killed a
deer, I volunteered to remain in camp and make “ flap-
jacks,” boil potatoes, fry venison, etc., while the other
members of the party went hunting.

Bread, or perhaps I should say a substitute for bread,
baked in a frying pan and made out of flour, baking pow-
der, water and salt is known as a “ flap-jack.” Perhaps
the reader has read Mark Twain’s “ Roughing It,” or Rich-
ardson’s “Life Beyond the Mississippi,” and if so, he will .
remember the delightful and interesting sketches these
authors give of " flap-jack” baking as it appealed to them.
It is, to begin with, quite an art to mix in the proper pro-
portions, the concoction from which the “jack” is made,
and it is a greater art when the “jack” is sufficiently
baked on one side, to loosen it with a slap of the pan on
the ground and, give it the proper twist, so that it will
“flop” clear over and catch it, not losing it in the fire nor
smashing it into a shapeless mass. My “ jack” baking
was progressing satisfactorily and it seemed that proba-
bly the camp would be mine for the day, and that I would

Page Twenty-Seven

ce 2 aes : m
— ‘the Treasurer and the Photographer rode into camp

not be disturbed until evening, when Valentine appeared
and announced that he had seen several deer, and had
succeeded in securing one. He took a horse and went for
the deer, and soon after his return the Treasurer and the
Photographer rode into camp, both on “Old Sorrel,” the
latter’s horse, leading “ Buckskin,” on which was loaded
four fine bucks, three having been shot by the former, the
other by the latter.

We now had five whole deer and the larger part of
another, all we could comfortably carry in addition to our
provisions and bedding, and as we were averse to killing
more than we could take away, we decided to leave the
day following, for a point where we had seen numerous
turkey signs on the way over, and gradually wend our
way back towards Casas Grandes the latter part of the
week.

It is needless to say, that after the strenuous exertions
of the day on the part of the hunters, they were ready
for the repast I had prepared for them. The “ flap-jacks,”
which I am willing to admit, were of a specific gravity
almost equal to lead, and would have made good bullets,
had we ran short of ammunition, and in addition were
thoroughly impregnated with ashes, disappeared as
though the choicest product of culinary art. The beans,
which we had boiled in the coffee pot, and were a little
scorched and not as well done as might be desired, passed
muster, while the boiled potatoes and venison, together
with the coffee, strong enough to float an egg, completed

Page Twenty-Nine

a repast never more enjoyed by the most fastidious epi-
cure at Sherry’s or Delmonico’s.

I feel that I might properly digress here for a moment
to speak especially of some of the characteristics of Val-
entine, our worthy guide. He belongs to and is a repre-
sentative of the great class of Peons which constitutes
the larger portion of the population of the Republic, and
like all others of his caste, owns no home and has only a
few personal effects. Valentine’s life is one continuous
round of poverty and drudgery, and though he occasion-
ally guides hunting parties into the mountains, for which
he receives fair pay, yet the greater portion of the time he
barely manages to eke out an existence. As might be
easily surmised, it is only by the most rigid economy and
denial that he is able to support himself and his family.

Perhaps it was imagination on my part, but I fancied
when I first saw Valentine, that he had a hungry look,
and I am very sure I was not mistaken in the belief that
his eyes ever and anon wandered fondly toward the pro-
provision boxes. Our first supper on the Tinajas proved
that my surmises were correct. I am certain that for all
the sacrifices to the “inner-man,” which circumstances.
had compelled Valentine to make, since his last “square
meal,” he “broke even” at that time. He stuffed himself
until he could hardly wink. then stood up and walked
around camp fora time until nature had provided addi-
tional room, and then filled up again, keeping this up
till the walls of his stomach must have been stretched

Page Thirty

like a foot-ball inflated under heavy pressure. When so
thoroughly packed full that he could scarcely breathe, to
our repeated urgings that he was not doing himself justice
and was certainly losing his appetite, he would regretfully
complain that his stomach was “muy chiquita” (very small)
and he could eat but little. However, if any good things
were left over and we were camped for the day, he would
tenderly set them aside to be disposed of when a little
more space was available. But Valentine, notwithstand-
ing his ravenous appetite, ‘made good,” and had we not
been so fortunate as to secure his services, we might have
failed entirely, and instead of the pleasant memories of a
successful trip, be now uttering anathemas against the
country and our ill success.

After dinner, the game was gambreled and salted, and
hung to a pine tree near the camp in order that it might
become thoroughly chilled during the night and be in fit
condition for transportation the day following.

Since leaving Casas Grandes we had enjoyed the most
beautiful weather possible ; while it frosted every night
and towards morning became quite cold, yet it was not
disagreeable, and during the day we would often travel
in our shirt sleeves, even in the higher altitudes. Now,
however, we could feel that a change in the weather con-
ditions was imminent. Clouds which certainly forbade a
storm scurried across the sky, and often hung low or
rested heavily on the mountain tops. A few drops of
rain would occasionally fall and fitful blasts would make

Page Thirty-One

was gambreled, salted and hung to a

c

‘* the game

> tree near the camp””’

pine

their cold presence felt as they swirled through the cafions
and arroyos. Because it was necessary to travel in “light
marching order” we did not carry a tent with us, but only
a tarpaulin, which we would place under the bedding on
the ground and over us, it being long enough so that in
case a sudden storm came upon us we could draw it over
our heads, leaving a space open on the sides for fresh air.
This answered very well in ordinary weather, but if we
were to experience a heavy storm we must provide more
adequate protection.

Fearing it would rain during the night, we set a pole
about six feet long in the ground, and from a nearby tree
stretched a rope, passing it over the top of the pole, it
having been notched to receive it, and fastened the rope to
a stake securely driven in the ground. Over the rope
which acted as a ridge pole, we hung the tarpaulin, se-
curely staking the edges, thereby making a very comfort-
able A-shaped tent, although open at both ends, but en-
tirely efficient as a rain protection. Contrary to our ex-
pectation, it did not rain that night, and as the weather
conditions were propitious the following morning, we de-
cided we would hunt until mid-day, we still having carry-
ing capacity in an emergency for an additional deer or two.

The hunters, the day before on their return to camp,
had reported that near where they had secured their
game they had beheld from the crest of the main range
a magnificent view of a wide expanse of mountains and
valleys. Being desirous of securing a picture of this

Page Thirty-Three

grand panorama, we decided to return and photograph
it, taking our rifles with us of course, for use in case we
should see game.

The summit, or “cumbre” as it is called in Spanish,
of the main range was about three miles from camp and
though the ride was arduous, the mountains being rocky
and steep, it being necessary at times to allow the horses
to rest, we finally reached the summit, and there we saw
such a wonderful vision of grandeur and sublimity as
probably few have been given the privilege to behold.
Words are entirely inadequate to describe such a view as
was presented to our sight. Far off to the westward,
standing as mute guardian over its lesser brethern, wasa
chain of rugged peaks bathed in soft colors of violet
tints, while near by ponderous works of the Creator's art
draped in the emerald green of the pine forests, brought
forth in vivid contrast the dark gray southwestern peaks.
Off to the north, but nearerby, hills of alsation blue blend-
ed their colors with the variegated tints of the frost-tinged
oaks and sycamores. We feasted our souls to overflow-
ing with this grand and sublime panorama, then reluct-
antly mounted our horses and reverentially and regret-
fully started homeward.

We had now reached the western limit of our journey.
From now on we would travel eastward until each had
reached his own fireside, the guide at Casas Grandes, the
Treasurer and Photographer in El Paso, and the writer
in Mansfield, Ohio, more than two thousand miles away.

Page Thirty-Four

We had left the summit but a short distance behind, when
on glancing ahead, I saw a deer intently watching us. His
curiosity cost him his life. I rolled off “ Muchacho Negro,”
seized my rifle, cautioned my companions to be quiet, drop-
ped on my kneeand fired. My shot passed entirely through
the lungs and close to the heart, but even thus mortally
wounded, he ran perhaps fifty yards before falling. We
soon had the animal dressed and strapped to the back of
the saddle and were again on the road to camp. After
dinner the real work of the journey began. Heretofore,
we had only to pack our provisions and bedding; now,
in addition, we had six deer weighing probably seven
hundred pounds and to distribute them to the best ad-
vantage on the pack animals and saddle horses, and fasten
them so they would not become bruised and yet stay in
place when traveling over the rough and steep trails was
indeed a difficult and strenuous task.

Had we not been fortunate in having a man of the
Treasurer's ability, who knew all the intricacies of the
packer’s art, and had his efforts not been ably supple-
mented by Valentine, who was nearly as efficient and
dextrous as he, I fear we would perhaps have been com-
pelled to leave some of our game behind. It was decided
to load the cinnamon mule with the two small deer, hang-
ing one on each side of the pack saddle, on top of which
the bedding was placed. The black mule, which carried
the “ grub boxes,” was delegated to carry in addition the
largest deer; “ Buckskin,” “Muchacho Negro” and Valen-

Page Thirty-Five

sé

n . a ”)
— SZ0 “2 sublimely
, WA nat dt} and .
4 ZSZOul OF ES Va
a wonde / ful <

tine’s horse each assumed the responsibility of transport-

ing an animal behind the saddle of his rider. “Old Sorrel”
was burdened with all the balance of the outfit we could

not find a place for elsewhere, and thus equipped we
took the trail and wended our way down through " Paseo
del Diablo” and “ Marrano Cafion ” towards the San Pedro
River and the prospective turkey grounds.

Page Thirly-Seven

PART FIVE

IH E ride down the cafion was, if possible, more in-
teresting than the journey up had been a few
days before. Signs of mountain lion were abund-
ant on every hand and no doubt, had our time
been sufficient, (and this is no attempt to excuse our
courage) we could have enjoyed rare sport in hunting
them, as they were undoubtedly plentiful in that vicinity.
We passed the remains of a deer close to the trail, which
we judged had been the victim of a lion, as it was lying
at a point where they had left plentiful signs. The tracks
were all large, showing that the animals were full grown.
During the afternoon we saw a number of deer, and in-
deed the Photographer succeeded in getting into range
of one, which he shot at but without result. About dusk
we camped for the night, satisfied the inner-man with a
bountiful supply of venison tenderloin, and retired to a
well earned rest after a most interesting and strenuous
day. :

The following morning by eight o'clock we were again
in the saddle, and after traveling an hour or so reached
the San Pedro river, which we followed up for some dis-
tance, then struck off to the eastward, following an old
trail which would ultimately lead us back to “ four o’clock
camp” as we called it, where we stopped the second night
out and near where I killed my first deer. The morning
was uneventful, except that the Treasurer and “ Buckskin ”

Page Thirty-Fight

had a “falling out” which completely disturbed our
friend’s mental equilibrium for a time, and I fancy caused
his tan-colored horseship an immense amount of satis-
faction and merriment, at least until his rider had re-
established himself as master of the situation.

It seems that the Treasurer had, for some reason dis-
mounted, and for a moment allowed “ Buck” a free rein.
This was “ Buck’s” opportunity to “get even” and he
seized it without an instant’s hesitation. The Treasurer
should have known that confidence placed in “ Buckskin”
was not well founded, and the moment “ Buck ” found he
was free the fun began. He started off on a tantalizing
trot, seeming delighted to match speed with his master,
and although the Treasurer put on all speed possible and
sprinted along at a “home run” gait, “ Buck” was a little
the faster. With a vicious kick now and then to evidence
his delight and an ugly buck, by which he hoped to dis-
lodge the deer strapped on behind the saddle, he came
up the valley with the Treasurer trailing along behind.
On they went, for perhaps a couple of miles, “ Buck” just
keeping out of reach and the Treasurer swallowing and
breathing the dust he stirred up for his benefit, together
with an occasional wad of gravel his hind feet managed
to pelt him with.

We did not learn how the chase ended or what was
said or done when our friend regained his mount, but
judging from appearances it was reasonable to suppose
“Buck” had been given such a severe lesson in horse

Page Thirty-Nine

ethics, well hammered in and clinched, that his desire to
display his depravity was a negligible quantity, at least
for the time being.

We ran across numerous turkey signs, about ten
o'clock, and decided to stop for a while and locate if pos-
sible the place where the turkeys roosted. I was the last
one to leave camp and before starting it occurred to me
that perhaps it would be a good idea to suggest to Valen-
tine that he make some “ flap-jacks,” thinking of course
if he was versed in the art, that he would make them the
same way as I have already described, and which is con-
sidered the standard method among prospectors, hunters,
cowboys and others. What was our surprise on return-
ing to camp, to find that Valentine knew more about bread
making than all of us put together, and as evidence of his
skill displayed a pile of “ tortillas” (cakes) he had baked,
that fairly made our mouths water.

Instead of going at it in the crude way we were famil-
iar with, he made a dough much the same as the house-
wife does, but instead of rolling it out he would take a
small portion and pat it out between his hands, (it is not
necessary to state if his hands were clean) in the same
manner that the Mexican makes his corn tortilla, the result
being that he produced a very edible article much better
baked and not so soggy and everlastingly tough as the flap-
jack. We crowned Valentine “ King of the bread-makers ”
right then and there, and he modestly bore his honors
and maintained his reputation until the end of the trip.

Page Forty

—‘‘and thus equipped we took the trail”?

We searched the surrounding country for turkey
roosts, but evidently the birds we had seen the evidences
of had come from some distance. Wild turkeys select, as
a general thing, low spreading pine trees for roosts, and
though if impossible to locate the birds when feeding dur-
ing the day, they can by locating their habitat, be easily
bagged after night-fall, when they have gone to roost. A
turkey is as reluctant to leave his perch as a chicken, the
consequence being that the hunter can get the bird be-
tween himself and the star-light, or better yet the moon-
light, and shoot until it drops, and notwithstanding the
disturbance, its companions rarely leave their perch.

Aside from a red fox I saw, and two deer the Treas-
urer reported, we sighted no other game, so after partak-
ing of Valentine's tortillas and the usual venison steak
and coffee, we packed up again and started on. About
three o’clock we jumped two “bucks” near the trail, and
immediately, before the rest of us began to think of get-
ting a shot, the Treasurer brought his “Lee Straight pull” |
into action, the result-being we soon had more fresh meat
and a proportionately greater load. As evidence of our
appreciation, we presented this last accession to Valen-
tine, which he gravely loaded on top of the other deer
he already was carrying back of his saddle.

Valentine’s mustang was about as large as a Shetland
pony, and after completing his load and adjusting him-
self in his saddle in addition to his coat, rifle, etc., there
was but little to be seen of his mount besides legs, tail

Page Forty-Two

and ears. I could not help but remark on the incongrous
appearance, and suggested that Valentine could more
properly carry the horse, but to our pleasantries he shrug-
ged his shoulders and assured us we need not worry, as
his horse was “muy fuerte” (very strong) and so he
proved to be, as he carried his enormous load over the
roughest trails without the least trouble.

About dusk we reached “four o’clock” camp and after
a most enjoyable meal retired to sound slumber and
pleasant dreams. Though the next morning, the sun ap-
peared in its usual brilliancy, we seemed to feel the im-
minence of rain and soon the sky became clouded. We
traveled probably six or eight miles to a point near where
all indications had pointed on the way over, to good
turkey hunting and camped, but no sooner had we un-
packed than rain-clouds began to gather, preparatory to
a general storm which had been gathering for several days.

We made the usual preparations for rain, stretched
the tarpaulin over the rope, placed all our equipment
under cover, provided wood in abundance for the camp
fire and waited for the storm which soon came and with
it disappeared all anticipations of successful turkey shoot-
ing. As the previous day had been pleasant, so this
day was equally disagreeable. Everything went wrong ;
the bedding got wet, we waded around in the grass until
soaked to the skin and to cap the climax, Valentine’s
horse strayed away.

A rainy day in camp, especially without adequate pro-

Page Forty-Three

tection, is one that tries a man's soul. One never knows
or realizes till he is cold and wet how disagreeable it is
possible to feel. Your companions are apt to become so
uncongenial to you that it requires an effort to treat them
decently, and they at the same time are feeling just as un-
happy and are probably forming equally unsatisfactory
opinions of yourself. At such times all the mean and
selfish traits that the average man is heir to are likely to
appear and if the rain and cold continues fora time, a
superhuman effort is required to continue on speaking
terms even with one’s self.

We attempted to eat supper in the rain, but it finally
became so violent we were forced to seek the shelter of
the improvised tent and there cuddled together like fledg-
lings in a nest in a space about four feet square, soaked
to the skin, cross and ugly as bears, almost ready to shoot
anyone who would mention deer or turkey, we finished
our wet and cold repast.

Our supply of provisions was now beginning to run
low. The last meal had exhausted our coffee and from
now on we must depend on cocoa, with which we were
fortunately supplied. The canned goods were fast dis-
appearing, the potatoes had already vanished and it was
clear that unless we soon reached civilization we would
be even more destitute of a proper food supply than
Colonel Sellers, whose diet consisted of turnips and water,
he with sublime courage claiming that the combination

Page Forty-Four

made a most delightful repast, “the turnips” as he said,
“absorbing the water and the water the turnips.”

Early the following morning, even though it was “ dark
and dreary” and everything was thoroughly saturated, we
packed our soggy stuff on the shivering animals and started
over the mountains to the Las Tinajas Cafion and the
main traveled road leading to Casas Grandes.

With the fear that I may tire the reader recounting
reminiscences of the rat-colored degenerate that the
Treasurer rode, I will mention another evidence of his
satanic disposition. “ Buckskin” had evidently forgotten
his severe disciplining of the day before, for no sooner
had the Treasurer seated himself in the saddle than his
“yellow nibs” tried to throw him out. We were some.
what in advance and knew nothing of the trouble that
was brewing until we heard a frightful yelling like a
Comanche on the war path and up the trail they came.
It was very funny to us, but not so to the rider—in fact
he took the matter seriously. “Buck” was humped up
into a knot and jumping up and down on his stiff legs
with the regularity of a walking beam, while the carcass
of the deer was keeping time to the movement as it flap-
ped and hammered around on his posterior extremity.
The Treasurer was hanging on as best he could, occasion-
ally hitting the saddle seat and then bounding out again,
all the time berating the horse, when not too busy hold-
ing on. with a piece of rope and saying things which under
the circumstances, though entirely fitting, would not bear

Page Forty-Five

—‘‘all indications had pointed to good turkey hunting”?

repeating. If “Buck” had any idea he could unseat the
Treasurer, he was most grievously mistaken, for no better
rider ever straddled a cayuse in the southwest than he.
While somewhat out of practice and at times rather dis-
turbed by the suddenness of “Buck's” onslaughts, yet
they did not alarm him greatly, and only served to call
his memory back to the time when his father was agent
of the Mescalero Apaches, and as a child he learned from
“ Three-Fingered Charlie” and other noted scouts and
cowboys the intricacies of the “broncho buster’s” art.

I would not have it thought that because of the dis-
cipline our friend subjected “ Buckskin” to at times, he is
other than a gentleman of most delightful mien and ami-
able disposition, but anyone who could associate with
“Buck” for ten days and be the victim of his various
eccentricities, diabolical tricks and devilish cussedness
without exhibiting some human weaknesses should indeed,
when done with earthly things, be a candidate for a seat
among the most high.

Through the mists and fogs on the mountain tops we
slowly wended our way and at last reached the main
traveled road in the Tinajas Cafon. We now felt we
were back to semi-civilization and with about twenty-five
miles before us, we headed for Casas Grandes. During
the afternoon we left the Las Tinajas and crossing over
a wide mesa, which is used as pasture land by the various
Mormon settlements in that vicinity, decended into the
Tapiacita Valley.

Page Forty-Seven

Night would soon overtake us and as we were about
fifteen miles from our destination, with tired pack animals,
we decided to stop and finish our journey the following
day. We named this camp the “Last Chance,” and it was
indeed properly named in more ways than one. In the
first place it was our last chance to enjoy, though our
supply was meagre, a meal of good things prepared by
ourselves; secondly we would not soon again have the
privilege of enjoying each other’s society or listening to
Valentine’s tales, in his musical Spanish, of life as a cow-
boy, frontiersman and guide; and last but not least. it
would certainly be our last chance to endure the dis-
comforts of sleeping on the damp ground, in wet blankets,
with nothing overhead but the clouds, from which fell
that night a cold and drizzling rain.

By eleven o'clock the next day we crossed the Casas
Grandes river, passed through the town of Colonia Dublan
and soon halted our caravan before the dispensary of our
friend and patron, Mr. Pink Robertson. The hunting trip
was over. Only the’ memory of a pleasant ten days’
outing remained, with six deer as substantial evidence of
our success as hunters; and an increased avoirdupois to
attest its beneficial and healthful effects. With the recol-
lection of many years’ experience on the frontier where
I grew to early manhood, during which time I hunted big
game in Wyoming and Colorado, I can truthfully say the
hunting trip just ended was the most delightful of all.

It would show poor appreciation on my part anda

Page Forty-Eight

lamentable lack of the fitness of things were I to close
this narrative without expressing myself in the highest
terms possible regarding those who were my companions.
The success and much of the pleasure of the trip was
due to the indefatigable and painstaking efforts, coupled
with the most kind consideration and utmost courtesy
manifested at all times by the Treasurer, Mr. J. F. Bennett,
and his estimable brother, Hilario F.—truly good men to
know. May life bring them both its richest rewards is
my earnest and sincere wish.

Page Forty-Nine

ADDENDUM

FEEL that I would not be justified in closing this
volume without making some reference to the evi-
dences throughout the country in which our ram-
bles led us, of a pre-historic civilization.

That Mexico and the southwestern portion of the
United States, was in the past inhabited by a people well
advanced in the arts and sciences, is a fact proven beyond
question, but who these people were, from whence they
came or where they went, no one can suggest a satisfactory
explanation.

That they were an agricultural people and lived
almost entirely by tilling the soil, knew nothing of the
working of metals, were not warlike and cared but little
for the chase, seems to have been fully established. That
they were a domestic people and lived in communities is
proven by the ruins of cities and villages found upon the
plains and in the mountains. It is undoubtedly true that
entirely different civilizations existed at different periods,
a race by conquest, pestilence or for some other cause
being overcome or destroyed, a more vigorous people occu-
pying the lands, improving, modifying or abandoning
the previous civilization, implanting instead, new customs
which gradually substituted those of the previous race.
The Indian tribes that Coronado, the Spanish explorer,
found in the valley of the Gila in the early part of the
sixteenth century, knew nothing and had not even tradi-

Page Fifty

tionary knowledge of the people who occupied that country
in prehistoric times, constructed the great irrigation works,
and built the large structure, still standing, known as the
Casa Grande (Big House) ruins.

My observations lead me to believe that the same
civilization about which Coronado sought information was
simultaneous and a part of that further to the South,
located in the country now within the boundaries of the
present States of Chihuahua and Sonora.

It is a remarkable fact that on the walls of the ruins
of some of the ancient houses or nearby rocks, characters
similiar in every respect to the Chinese are found. Is it
possible that the progenitors or descendants of Confucius
came from or found homes in the isolated valleys or
beneath the overhanging cliffs of the Sierras? Is it pos-
sible that the pure blooded Mexican of today, who claims
an ancestry dating back to the ancient Aztec, has a com-
mon origin with the pagan of the Celestial Kingdom ?

It is not my intention to enter into a discussion of
profound problems, which properly belong to the student
of ancient civilizations, but I cannot refrain from jotting
down in these notes some of the thoughts and sugges-
tions that have occurred to me when investigating and
pondering this most interesting subject.

The Montezumas, as these ancient people are called,
made large quantities of pottery, which is found in nearly
all excavations, and which is shaped much the same as
modern Mexican pottery, except that the ollas or water

Page Fiftyv-One

bottles have short necks, whereas the neck of the Mexi-
can olla is long. They are generally painted a blood red
color and baked, rendering them non-porous, but the bak-
ing process was not for the purpose of giving or did it
have a glazing effect. It is probable that the art of pot-
tery making was more highly developed among certain
families or tribes, it being an art not universally under-
stood. There were probably certain sections devoted en-
tirely to its manufacture and artisans highly skilled in the
business devoted their entire time to its production. Some
years past I visited the Casa Grande ruins in the Gila
Valley, near which I found a piece of pottery that was
decorated in bright and variegated colors which were
entirely covered and protected by a thin coat of trans-
parent glass. This glazing had been done so perfectly
that though the pottery had been exposed to the storms
and sunshine of the desert for untold centuries, it was as
perfect as though but fresh from the potter’s kiln. This
specimen was different from any that I have ever seen,
that have been found in Chihuahua, though it is possible
a wider experience would indicate its manufacture was
as well understood in that section as further north in
the Gila Valley. :;

In the Arros Cafion, about one hundred and twenty-
five miles from Casas Grandes, a place I have not yet vis-
ited, I am informed on reliable authority, extensive ruins
of ancient dwellings have been found, one house alone it
is stated, having probably one hundred rooms.

Page Fifty-Two

Skeletons are found in abundance, those of the adult
indicating a height of about five feet eight inches. The
bones of the hands and feet are generally small and of a
delicate refined appearance. In nearly every instance the
excavations of burial places have revealed the body lying
in a reclining position, the head resting on a block of
wood, hollowed out to receiveit. The knees are brought
up against the chest, and generally the body is wrapped
in three grades of matting; the first next the body,
closely resembling the material from which gunny sacks
are made, of vegetable fibres; the second covering en-
veloping the first, of reeds and grass, and the outer much
the same, of coarse strands about the third of an inch in
width.

Generally, two or three ollas are found in each grave,
placed beside the head, one containing pinole, another
beans and the third beads and trinkets. In some instan-
ces corn on the cob, closely resembling our popcorn is
found in the third olla.

They used bows and arrows, the latter in some cases
being tipped with deer skin. Reeds were used for the
arrows, which were burned to give them a hardening
effect. Flint arrow heads, such as the Indians of the
present day are acquainted with, were evidently un-
known, or if so, were not used for some reason not ap-
parent.

Ruins of houses are found in different localities ; in
some instances in the open country on the banks of

Page Fiftv-Three

creeks and arroyas, and in the rough mountainous coun-
try under sheltering cliffs, the projecting ledges of rock
forming the roof.

I have noticed in many places large areas laid off and
marked by rows of rock in straight lines forming rectang-
ular and square enclosures, the space enclosed in some
instances being extensive, in others small but in every
case being geometrically correct, evidencing a knowledge
of directions and mathematics. With what object these
delineations were made, no one with whom I have ever
discussed the subject would even venture an answer.

The science of irrigation was well understood and
practiced, not only in the restricted areas in the moun-
tains, but in the large valleys of the plains country, wher-
ever an adequate water supply could be obtained. The
old canals can in many places still be traced and in some
instances, in the construction of modern irrigation sys-
tems, it has been found expedient to re-establish the
ancient waterway, the gradients being exactly suited to
the requirements of modern engineering practice. That
they were an idolatrous people there can be no question,
as stone images have been found in abundance by ex-
cavators. The inherent recognition of man’s responsibil-
ity to an Omnipotent Creator, probably also found ex-
pression in the adoration and worship of the Sun, their
religion being similar to that of the Aztec and the Incas.

The chief food supply was evidently corn, and it was
prepared for use in much the same manner as the peon

Page Fifty-Four

prepares his “tortillas” (corn-cakes) at the present time.
The Montezuma knew nothing of mechanical appliances
and as the horse was entirely unknown, it not being in-
troduced into America until the Spanish conquest, he was
compelled to cultivate his crops, prepare his food and
make his clothes entirely by manual labor, not having the
assistance of man’s most faithful friend to cultivate his
fields, turn his grinding mill or roll the tanner’s wheel.
Probably the most laborious and never-ending task of
the house-wife of those days, was the grinding of the
corn which was all done in “metates” (stone mills) by
hand.

I had the pleasure and satisfaction of finding one of
these ancient mills and its examination proved most in-
teresting. It was made of lava rock, about fourteen
inches long by the same in width, trough shaped, open at
one end, closed at the other and probably about eight
inches deep inside by ten inches outside. In using the
metate, the operator places it between the knees and
taking an ellipsoidal shaped rock six or eight inches long,
in both hands, by continuous rubbing and grinding grad-
ually reduces the corn to a fine pulp or powder. When
the housewife of long ago first began grinding in our
metate, it was simply a rectangular shaped piece of lava-
rock and only by the wear consequent to the grinding
was it shaped into its present form.

Remembering the hardness of the rock and the infin-
itesimal abrasion of the grinding operation it is possible

Page Fifty-Five

perhaps to form a faint conception of the centuries of
effort necessary to give our metate its present shape.
Probably enough human power was expended and corn
ground, in giving form to this metate to furnish an empire
with tortillas for many decades.

Page Fifty-Six

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