Son,Lath.
Seow LRACKS. IN
NORTH AMERICA.
A Journal of _ and Adbenture
WHILST ENGAGED IN THE SURVEY FOR A SoU a RAILROAD TO THE
PACIFIC nies DURING 1867
By WILLIAM A. BELL, M.A., M.B. Canras.,
FELLOW OF THE ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL AND ETHNOLOGICAL SOCIETIES.
The Teams at Eventide, California.
IN TWO VOLUMES,
VOE. If.
LONDON :
CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY.
‘ 1869
fA rR aN
| [All Rights Reserved.)
CONTENTS.
PART III.
FROM THE RIO GRANDE DEL NORTE TO THE PACIFIC OCEAN.
CHAPTER I.
a PAGE
Tae Rio GranpE VALLEY 1
CHAPTER II.
iz MiemBres MounTAIns AND THE Rio MIEMBRES . . gttiy 17
4 CHAPTER Iil.
Tue Burro MovuntTAmrys, THE MApRE PuatEav, Fort Bowie, AND WHAT
HAPPENED THERE : é ‘ : ‘ : ee
CHAPTER IV.
From APAcHE Pass TO THE ARAVAYPA ns. Oe ? <° o
. CHAPTER V.
me ARAVAYPA OANon er 63
CHAPTER VI
HE GILa VALLEY AND SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. : : ; i
CHAPTER VII. |
Pe be . SON ko f
ORR es a ee
vi CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VIII.
HERMOSILLO : ‘ : ‘ 2 3 j ; : : ae
CHAPTER IX.
THE GuLF OF CALIFORNIA
CHAPTER X.
NatuRAL RESOURCES OF SONORA
CHAPTER XI.
-How THE SURVEYORS FARED ON THE 30TH PARALLEL . : _ ‘
CHAPTER XII.
CenrraL ARIZONA
CHAPTER XIII. coy
PASSAGE OF THE GREAT CANON OF THE CoLoRADO BY JAMES WHITE, [
THE PROSPECTOR ee ee . . ‘
CHAPTER XIV. E
Rerven Joveney vid Saur Lake - © + + +t # ® 218°
PART IV.
THE PACIFIC RAILWAYS.
CHAPTER I.
History OF THE PROJECT
CHAPTER II.
THE OmanHa LINE
: CHAPTER III.
Tue Kansas Pactric RaILWay
CONTENTS.
| CHAPTER IV.
u NORTHERN Pacrric RAIbway .
CHAPTER V.
PENDIX A,
_ Botanical Report, by C. C. Parry, M.D.
_ List of Plants collected on the Survey
PENDIX B,
Routes Examined and Surveyed .
PENDIX C,
_ Photography ee ee oe
APPENDICES.
Vil
275
292
320
ILLUSTRATIONS.
ne
LITHOGRAPHS.
Tue WausaTc Movnrarns rrom Saur LAKE Crry—Frontispiece.
THE Rio GRANDE DEL Nortz, New Mexico : : ; To face
La Ténasa (WATER Basins rv THE Rock)
Tue Crry oF Rocks, Rro MremsBrzs
APACHE Pass, FROM Fort Bowie
THe CANADA OF THE ARAVAYPA
THe ARAVAYPA CANon
BaABUQUIVARI PEAK IN THE Piva tenes
Tue Surveyors at WorkK
Et Moro (Iysoriprion Rocr) .
TEHACHAPA Pass IN THE SIERRA irs
THe GREAT CANON OF THE CoLORADO
A Herp or BurraLo In WESTERN Kansas
. . . . . .
WOODCUT ILLUSTRATIONS. |
THe TEAMS AT EVENTIDE, CALIFORNIA .
Fort Cummings AND CooKE’s —
Oyo CALIENTE . : : i : : ;
STEAN’s Pass BY eases : : : : : ; + To face
Our First Camping GRounD. , |
THE CEREUS GIGANTEUS .
Hypraviic MINING .
A Mormon Famtry .
PART ITI.
FROM THE RIO GRANDE DEL NORTE TO THE
j PACIFIC OCEAN.
FROM THE RIO GRANDE DEL NORTE
_ ‘TO THE PACIFIC OCEAN.
ees Uae
CHAPTER I.
THE RIO GRANDE VALLEY.
Jolton and Bell start on a Coal Hunt.—Galisteo.—Revisit the Real de los
Dolores.—Tejeras Caiion.—Manzana Mountains.—Albuquerque and the
Friends we made there.—Isleta.— The Rio Grande del Norte.—Mexican
Ranches.—The Valley, the Plateanx, and the Mountains on either side.—
Fort Craig.—Our Surveying Parties reassemble there.—General Wright
an
7:
Camp on the Rio Grande, and our Visitors.—This Valley a grand field for
igration.— Vine Oulture.—Two Horses bitten by Rattlesnakes.
Distance, 281 miles.
( olton and myself, without attendants or luggage, left Santa
Fé on an independent search, the object of which was coal.
Several spots had been named as coal-bearing districts, and it
‘was necessary to test the truth of these promising reports.
ithout change of horses, our week’s ride was the following :—
ame Gey Dente V6 fo Galinted- yy 8
2nd Carpenter’s Ranche (Tejeras Cafion) . Soe SO
3rd ,, Albuquerque (RioGrande) . . : ee
4th ,, Visit to coal-fields, eight miles from Albuquerque. 16
5th ,, Belen (on Rio Grande) . . . . : . 22
Limetar
“
~“
e! ce ‘ : . . : . «ed
wth ,, Fort Craig ,, . : . . ‘ “ _ =
: Total for the week . » 21:
VOL. EL. B
2 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
In the object of our search we were by no means successful; ,
not, as we afterwards discovered, because there was no coal
in those localities which report led us to visit, but because
those who knew of it determined to keep it secret, supposing
that the railway company would devise some plan of robbing
them of the fruits of their discoveries. This was not sur
prising amongst the suspicious Mexicans, but so “‘ dog-in-the-
American frontiersmen. At the village of Galisteo we could
not find any one willing to show us the coal veins, although
they did not deny their existence. We were surprised to se¢
were made, and at sunset these enclosures were crowded with!
stock. Notwithstanding that hundreds of cows were standing
around, not a drop of milk could be got for love or money. |
On our way to Tejeras Cafion, a fine natural pass lying
between the Placer Mountains and the Zandia, we visited for
the second time the hospitable dwelling of Dr. Steck at the
Real de los Dolores.
When at eventide, after a long and difficult ride over
| TEJERAS CANON. 3
“Wapper and breakfast of rusty bacon and very stale bread, we
ja ounted our steeds and went our ways.
j/ The coal vein we thus failed to visit is situated south-west
Ip! f Carpenter’ s, not in the Tejeras Cafion proper, but in one of
he western ravines of the Manzana Mountains, and is about
. Peteck miles east of the Rio Grande. A surface specimen
ziven to Dr. Le Conte by Colonel Watts at Santa Fé was of
xcellent quality.
# The road through the mountains down to the plain of the
HRio Grande valley is very wild.and romantic. The rock
“exposures are bold and imposing, towering up to the sky,
and presenting great varieties of colour and outline; for some
mare composed of masses of granite; some of sandstone, grey
fand red; others are of smooth, shining, metamorphic rocks ;
nd again, others consist of marbles beautifully variegated,
yhite, pink, and grey, the fractures remaining bright and
parkling for a very long time in the dry atmosphere of these
egions. ‘When in the afternoon we had left the mountains
#many miles to the east of us, on our way to Albuquerque,
“and looked back at their sharply-cut sides, perfectly bare,
precipitous, and jagged, brilliantly lighted up by the declining
sun, the sight was very remarkable, and one long to be
remembered. Not a tree is to be seen on the steep western
lopes of the mountains, and if there be grass or other vegeta-
ion here and there amongst the crevices, it is not noticeable
t a distance; everywhere huge masses of variegated rock
ise for thousands of feet above the plain, and throw their
ver-varying shadows deep and crisp upon each other.
Albuquerque, the second town in rank to Santa Fé, does
present an imposing appearance. It is a straggling
ection of adobe houses, scattered amongst innumerable
cequias or irrigating ditches, in the perfectly flat lowlands
B2 : :
4 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA,
of the Rio Grande valley. In a direct line it is sixty-three
miles from Santa Fé. A few groves and solitary cotton-woe i
trees give a degree of shade to the place, but beyond this it
might be a brick-yard as seen at a distance. Distance he re
certainly does not lend enchantment to the view, for on close
inspection every house is found to possess a garden well
filled with peaches, apples, plums of every description, and
vines bearing most delicious grapes. Then, as one approaches,
fields of Indian corn pop up on all sides, having been hidd en
from view by the lowness of their position ; and, lastly, in
the centre of the town, a very inviting church, with twi
spires, adds greatly to the appearance of the plaza, i
The little American colony here received us most hospitably.
_ In the evening all sat together, a party of nearly a dozen, in
the large cool room of one of the resident merchants, and
enjoyed a social chat whilst full justice was done to the
flowing bowl.
Money-making is, of course, the great desideratum which
attracts the white man to so out-of-the-way a country,
from home, and often also from all that is dear to him. Once
here, he cares little what he does provided it pays.
most entertaining man of the evening at Albuquerque was @
young Southerner, who kept us in roars of laughter with hi
droll stories, while he did the honours
the most delightful ease and good breeding. At parting,
told us that we should be called early next morning to visib
Some of the fruit gardens and take an early breakfast—
‘Breaktast No. 1—of grapes and peaches. ‘You must come
of the evening with
=
people must have their chops, your
e.” So next morning, as we we 0
ALBUQUERQUE. 5
th blue blouse and paper cap—knife in hand, performing
onders in dissection upon his slaughtered sheep. Two
gurs later, on our return to the hotel, we stopped at the
flice of the Albuquerque Chronicle. At the door we met the
itor and proprietor, who, to our great amusement, was no
ther than our facetious host ‘of the night before, the butcher
yf Albuquerque, and now, bereft of blouse, the energetic
sditor of the daily paper.
Is not a lesson to be learned from this little sketch of
Western life? I would at least respectfully recommend it to
the consideration of our would-be emigrants.
From Albuquerque we travelled in the valley of the Rio
Grande, 115 miles, to Fort Craig. For the whole of this
distance the valley was studded on both sides with numerous
villages, some belonging to Pueblo Indians, the greater
number to Mexicans. The largest of the former was Isleta,
where Colton and myself rested an hour or two at mid-day,
after leaving Albuquerque, and enjoyed the produce of a
very fine vineyard, cultivated, of course, by the Indians. The
houses were built, like those of the Mexicans, of adobe, but
were much larger; many were of two stories; all seemed to
contain more than one family, and were not entered from the
yutside or from the roof, as it is common in some pueblos, but
generally from an inner court. The irrigating ditches were well
built and cared for, and the whole place had a more well-to-do
look about it than the Mexican villages generally exhibit.
The crops were also finer. Some of the Indians, clothed in
buckskin and in fur, lay basking in the sun, and took little or
no notice of us as we passed.
The greater part of the valley is here almost entirely
destitute of trees. This may be partly accounted for by the
fact that the banks of the river are of a sandy, friable nature,
q
6 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
and that the bed of the stream is always changing its position, |
sometimes to one side, sometimes to the other; thus destroy-
ing fields of corn, irrigating canals, and villages; taking from m
one man and giving to another, covering rich tracts of alluvi
soil with sand and rubbish, and undermining the trees whid
had arrived at maturity on the firm dry land. About latitude
82° 13’ are two flourishing towns, La Mesilla and Los Cruces
Not long ago the river passed between them, but now they
both lie on the left bank, the stream having completely
changed its channel without disturbing either.
Between the villages we often met with ruins of towns
now quite deserted, but once far more extensive than those
still mhabited. These ruins were generally of adobe ; bul at
some of the most extensive had stone foundations, pees were
therefore, without doubt, of Aztec origin.
Our daily wants shkioad us often to visit the cottage of § a
Mexican for lodging or refreshment ; and although the latt
was usually scanty enough, the fata was the perfection of
rustic neatness. Household cleanliness is as natural to some
nations as ‘“pigstyosity” is to others. Compare the Irish |
peasantry and the Mexican peons. Both are Roman Catholies; 7
neither, as a rule, are well fed or well clothed ; both «
indolent by nature ; and, as far as brains go, vue the Irish-
man stands ‘eecmna’ Yet enter their cottages. In one cas 2 :
you instinctively hold your nose, and back out. In the other
you sit on the floor with pleasure, and use it as a table with.
out the least compunction, Although great neatness
the rule wherever I have travelled amongst the Mexicans,
e Cottages along the Rio Grande, especially towards the ’
south, seemed to be kept with special taste. When nes
into the parlour, We would look with dismay at our dus
boots and soiled ap arel, for the floor would be often com-
THE VALLEY. 7
pletely covered with snow-white lamb-furs ; the ottomans, or
ather the folding mattresses surrounding the room, would be
ihc cased in beautifully-washed white cotton counterpanes, or
J Mexican blankets striped with different colours, but equally
gure and spotless as the counterpanes. They have also a
eat way of covering the ceilings with canes similar to
b amboo-canes, which are arranged in patterns very much like
Bthose we often see lining the walls of an English summer-
house. Although a frizzled-up mutton-bone, or some sun-
dried meat swimming in fat, with tortillas (unfermented bread)
pabout as thin, tough, and tasteless as buckskin leather, are
generally all you can confidently look forward to, still you
may feel quite certain that your host has done his best. The
people are most courteous to their guests; but they seem
quite ignorant of the existence of butter, bread, or vege-
tables of any kind, except in a few of the larger towns.
Chili Colorado (red pepper) beans, Indian corn, and mutton
(mostly sun-dried) pretty well complete the list of their
necessaries of life—not forgetting, of course, tobacco, and
water-melons when in season.
On the afternoon of October 6th, after an unusually long
stretch (thirty miles) of uninhabited valley, we came in view
of the flag which waved over Fort Craig,—a military post,
placed on the top of some barren, sandy bluffs overlooking
the stream. Between Albuquerque and this point (115 miles),
the valley varies in width from five or six miles to a few
hundred yards. When I say “ the valley,” I mean the level
central trough between the bluffs or cliffs on either side. It
is very seldom, in this distance, that these bluffs approach so
close as to hem in the stream and obliterate the valley ; and .
when they do it is only for a very short distance. Isleta is
one of these points; San Felipe another; Fort Craig a third.
8 7 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA. © |
But, usually, there is a large tract of irrigable land on eac L
side, capable of sustaining a very considerable population.
On ascending the bluffs on either side, you come ‘upon A
level grass-covered plain, which slopes up gradually towards
the mountains beyond, and usually contains no water what-
ever. On the eastern side the mountains consist of detached
ranges—the Zandia, Manzana, Sierra de Coboleta, and Sierra
del Oso. One of these ranges is always within view from
the river, but none approach very close to the lower valley.
Below Fort Craig, however, the eastern ranges encroach so
much on the river as to obliterate the grass-covered plateau,
and reduce the bottom-land in many places to an insignificant
strip.
side of the valley. These are the Zuni Mountains, which
traverse obliquely 2° of longitude, from Campbell’s Pass to
the Rio Grande, near Fort Craig, where they seem to be
continued on the other side by a range of mountains—the
Sierra del Caballo—which hugs the eastern bank. It was
thought very naturally by General Wright, that having
turned the lower end of this range in the neighbourhood of
Fort Craig, we might be able to pass westward, and strik
the Rio Gila without going further south ; but behind thi
Zuili range rises another quite as formidable. Nor was ther
'» As these formidable barriers form the divid
between the waters of the Colorado Chiquito and the Gil
on one side (emptying into the Pacific), and those of the Rio
FORT ORAIG, 9
Grande on the Atlantic slope, they have received by the
m Spaniards the collective name of Sierra Madre, which name
must not cause them to be confounded with the Sierra
gi Madre 3° south of them in Mexico proper. This fact is
g certain, that no railway can ever be constructed across this
great western barrier between Campbell’s Pass and the
@ Miembres Mountains; and even if it were possible to cross
fi the main divide between these points, and to strike the Rio
Gila in New Mexican territory, it would be perfectly
impossible to follow that stream through its mountain
@ gorges.
We found all our parties congregated at Fort Craig, for it
had been made the general rendezvous previous to reorganisa-
tion anda fresh advance westward. Mr. Imbrey Millar,
having taken his men safely through the Sangre de Christo
Pass, and surveyed a line over that lofty region to the head-
waters of the Rio Grande, had rapidly marched with them
Straight down the valley 380 miles. Mr. Eicholtz and his
party had surveyed a good line through the Abo Pass;
and Mr. Runk, under the immediate superintendence of
General Wright, had continued the main line of survey down
the Rio Grande valley from Isleta to Fort Craig.
_ Having thus far completed the object of the expedition,
4, General Wright’s labours in the field came to an end; and
here he left us, in company with our geologist, Dr. Le
Conte, the one to make up his reports and lay them before
the expectant directors, the other to visit the coal-fields near
4 Denver.
Here we found Palmer straining every nerve to hasten as
4 quickly as possible the fresh start. For some time it had
4 been undecided whether the route along the 35th parallel
would warrant a separate examination or not; for Jeffer-
10 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
son Davis, when Secretary of War, after several elaborate —
Government surveys had been made, gave the route along 4
the 32nd parallel the decided preference. Palmer, however, —
after collecting all the information possible throughout the
country—after holding consultations with the most expe-_ |
rienced guides and prospectors who could by any means be
summoned to meet him at Santa Fé and elsewhere—after
consulting with the commanders of forts, Indian scouts, — :
Mexican shepherds, and examining every source of informa-
tion connected with the almost unknown regions to the west-
ward—came gradually to the opposite opinion, and determined
that the route along the 35th parallel should be most
thoroughly explored. He sent back to Kansas for two more
surveying parties under Colonel Greenwood to meet him at 7
Albuquerque, and applied to Government for additional —
transportation and another escort of sixty cavalry for their —
protection. .
Two parties were intrusted with the examination and
survey of the 32nd parallel route. One, under Mr. Runk, ©
was to continue the main line down the Rio Grande go as to
strike the passage westward through the Miembres Moun
tains, known as Cooke’s Cafion, which opens upon the vas
plain, the Madre Plateau. To Mr. Eicholtz and his party
were intrusted the “cut offs,” that is, the examination o
doubtful passes, which, if practicable, would shorten and —
improve the line run by Mr. Runk across country which was q
already known and considered practicable. General Palmer a
himself, with the third party, viz., that under the command
of Mr. Imbrey Millar, was to retrace his steps to Albu-_,
querque, and then, being reinforced by the two fresh parties _
brought by Colonel Greenwood, was to explore the route |
along the 35th parallel. Three parties, therefore, were
EXPEDITION REORGANISED. 11
organised to survey the northern route, and two the southern.
I took the latter route.
_ Before bidding adieu to Fort Craig, I must here acknow-
ledge the great hospitality of Mr. Wardwell, the sutler at
whose house General Palmer, Colonel Willis, Captain Colton,
and myself remained as guests during our stay there. The
good old medisval custom of keeping open house has very
nearly passed away, even from those spots where for ages it
was the pride of the proud lords of the soil; but the still
more bounteous “institution” of keeping open cellars is not
unfrequently met with in the Far West, and nowhere on such
a scale as at our host’s in Fort Craig. All day long, and
often far into the night, did the doors of these capacious
vaults remain open. Rows of glasses stood temptingly at the
entrance; and below, in dim twilight, might be seen rows of
casks, from all of which stuck out the unlocked tap. The
barrels were not of beer, but Borbon whiskey and other
spirits, El Paso wine, and real Cognac. All who had the
slightest claims to acquaintanceship with the host, which in
this land of freedom meant “a pretty big crowd,” were at
liberty to help themselves whenever they felt inclined, and
seldom indeed did I approach that seductive cave without
hearing the suggestive pop of the champagne cork.
On Tuesday afternoon we started afresh on our journey.
[ jomed Mr. Eicholtz’s party. During the week we marched
seventy miles due south, to a point on the Rio
; Grande sixteen miles north of Fort Thorn, where
we left the valley by a gentle ascent, and proceeded westward.
30 much had this portion of the valley been ravaged by the
wild Indians—the Apaches and Navajos on one side, and the
Jomanches on the other—that it was completely depopulated.
fravelling down the western side, we passed through the
October 8.
12 . - NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
ruins of a large village, formerly known as the Alamosa, —
‘. about half way between Craig and Thorn. The inhabitants, —
having abandoned their homes and the rich lands around them, — ;
had built another village on the opposite bank, under the —
protection of a small post, Fort M‘Rae, garrisoned by a few |
United States troops. New Alamosa, as it is called, is the :
only village we saw on the opposite bank for seventy miles ;_
and on our side, Polomas, a place of some twenty houses,
alone remained inhabited. For twenty miles further down —
the river than we went the valley is abandoned to the lizard
and the rattlesnake. Then comes a section where the —
Mexican population has been strong enough to hold its own, |
and has been able to plant vineyards and orange-groves, and
to gather in their fruits in due season. The district is called |
the Mesilla valley, and is spoken of with pride by the people —
of the country as the ‘“‘ Garden of the Rio Grande.” E
While resting during Sunday at our last camp on the Rio
Grande in a large valley, some twenty miles long by six
broad, a party of Mexicans and Americans came from Mesilla ~
to meet General Palmer and to give us welcome. The ‘|
General, of course, was not with us, but we drank his health
in fragrant El Paso, grown in the Mesilla valley, and brought :
to us by our new friends. We were surprised to come across —
this little party in so lonely and deserted a place. I had
much talk with them on the subject of the valley I had just
descended for so many hundred miles. They compared
part we were then encamped in with the Mesilla valley,
and said that naturally it was finer in every respect, bu :
being uninhabited and unirrigated, it was to the eye little ,
better than a parched desert filled with mezquit bushes and
brushwood. The opinion expressed by these men, the in- |
WINES OF THE RIO GRANDE. 13
conviction drawn from close observation, have convinced me
that there is no more splendid field now open for emigrants °*
than this long-deserted valley of the Rio Grande del Norte,
for the stream itself is not shut up in a gorge or cafion for a
‘single mile through 4° of its course in New Mexico, although
only a few miles south of the Mexican boundary-line it
becomes almost buried in the earth for 160 miles, so continu-
ously is it enclosed in lofty cafions.
I would especially recommend this fine valley to the con-
sideration of German emigrants who are acquainted with the
cultivation of the vine, for no production is so much in demand
= commands so high a price throughout the States as drink-
able wine of any sort. Champagne, made in Missouri and Ohio,
costs from two to four dollars a bottle, and the few good still
wines made at Cincinnati bring exorbitant sums. The same
may be said of Californian wines; but most of these are of
inferior quality, and require oo to make them keep.
Not so the juice of the Rio Grande grape. Originally,
most of the species grown here came from Spain; the fruit is,
if anything, too sweet to the taste, and very full-flavoured; but
as the amount of alcohol depends chiefly upon the amount of
‘sugar, the wines made from it are very full-bodied, and,
judging from the El Paso wine, which alone has received
any attention whatever, are likely to develop very high-class
qualities when matured by age. As each soil produces its
distinet varieties of wine, almost regardless of the original
species of grape, it is hard to give an idea of any particular
wine by giving it a well-known name. Dr. Le Conte
compares the wines now made in small quantities on the Rio
Grande to middle grades of Sauterne; but they do not
possess the mawkish sweet flavour Siidliar to Sauternes, and
have a great deal more body. Were I to name Madeira, I
14 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
should be equally far from the mark; yet there are qualities |
about El Paso wine which remind you strongly of those veryg
different wines, and make you fancy you might be drinkin 4 ,
them mixed. q
The length of the valley from Algodones to El Paso is
rather more than 200 miles; the average width is, say, five
miles, and if but 40 per cent. of this area is devoted to grape
culture, we immediately obtain 400 square miles, or 265,000
acres. Taking the yearly production of wine as low as seven
barrels per acre, we have 1,792,000 barrels, or 57,344,000
gallons.
At the lowest computation this wine would fetch one dollar
a gallon in the States, so that if we suppose 50,000,000
gallons to be about the proportion transported, and 40 cents
per gallon to be paid in freight by rail to St. Louis, we have
a yearly reyenue to the railway company (in the far distance,
no doubt) of 20,000,000 dollars,—a sum sufficient to pay over |
12 per cent. on the entire capital,—and 30,000,000 dollars to
the grape growers of the Rio Grande valley. But little atten-
Pueblo Indians ; they do not even stake it up, but allow the
grapes to lie in the dust; but this I noticed everywhere, that
the plants were kept well pruned, and not allowed to grow
more than 2 or 3 feet from the roots. Irrigation to some
extent was always employed; but I think it probable tha
where any large extent of bottom-land is irrigated for Indian
corn or other succulent vegetation, vines will be found
thrive well on the higher lands all around, for they re pee
but little water, and often produce the best qualities of wi
on the apace |
myn, g engraving is an exact copy of a pho
ore leaving the valley from our camp
Tp ie
a
soe
ios 8 re " % :
<9 RS eS
_ bi . . . hs Mea i bi fis .
e SVE wad oo . ey 8. ede ALS > Kae
<
Vincent Brooks, Day &Son. lith
T
1f& RIO GRANDE DEL NORTE, NEW MEXICO
TWO HORSES BITTEN BY RATTLESNAKES. 15
e: rly morn. An abundance of very large cotton-wood timber
is seen in the background. Such views as these are met with _
e verywhere throughout the hundred miles of uninhabited
y alley ; but, thirty miles north of Fort Craig, timber begins to
diminish, and the higher you go amongst the settlements the
scarcer, unfortunately, it becomes. Twenty years, however,
would make the bare parts of the valley quite as beautiful as
the uninhabited districts further south, were cotton-wood
rees planted along the acequias.
- During the last day’s march along the Rio Grande two of
pur horses were bitten by a rattlesnake, the same one having,
it is supposed, bitten both in the under lip as they were
feeding together in some long grass. I did not see them
antil a few hours afterwards, and they were then in the most
pitiable condition. The submaxillary, parotid, and all glands
situated about the head and down the neck became greatly
mlarged, disfiguring the poor animals dreadfully. From
heir nostrils and swollen gums a clear mucous discharge ran
lown. Their eyes were glairy, pupils greatly dilated, coats
ough and staring; they would not look at their corn, and
vere so submissive that you could do anything with them
fou liked. They were at the time in the best condition, but
me of them had evidently received a much stronger dose of
he poison than the other. I gave each of them half a pint
f whiskey with a little water, and half an ounce of ammonia.
kept the wounds fomented with a strong infusion of tobacco,
nid poulticed them with the chopped leaves of the same. I
ected that one horse would certainly have died, but both
e ee One, although reduced in flesh and thrown out
f condition, was fit for work in a week ; but the other only
us escaped with his life. He became a sala skeleton, and
fould have been abandoned had I not wished to see the
16 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
ultimate results. At the end of three months he also began .
to pick up, and eventually recovered without any abscess
or sloughs having taken place. I saw one horse, which
had been bitten in the leg, literally covered with sloughy
gangrenous ulcers; these healed, however, and he ultimately
recovered. 7 {
There is a little weed common throughout the Western
country called by Engelmann Euphorbia lata, by Torrey
Euphorbia dilatata, which is said to be a specific for the bit
of the rattlesnake. A doctor, whose name I forget, ha
published an account of his experiments with this plant; he
gave a strong infusion of it to a dozen dogs which were i
different stages of collapse from snake bites; all recovered
but one, and he could not swallow the drug. At the very
time when I wanted this plant I could not find it, although 1
met with it everywhere along our route.
CHAPTER II.
THE MIEMBRES MOUNTAINS AND THE RIO MIEMBRES.
seave the Rio Grande Valley.—‘‘ La Tenaja,” or the Water-bowl.—Mule
Spring.—Search for Palmer’s Pass.—Survey the Pass.—Cooke’s Caiion.—
The e Discovery of Copper i in the Miembres oe by the early Spanish
Work resumed again four years later, but abandoned on account of the
Indians.—The Pinos Altos Mines.—Mangas Coloradas.—The Days of
Indian Wars are numbered.—The Rio Miembres.—The City of Rocks.—
Ojo Caliente.—Colton arrives from Mesilla with Guides.—* Jornadas.”
Distance, from Rio Grande to Ojo Caliente, vid Palmer’s Pass, fifty miles.
m erged into rough undulating country formed of bluffs whose
ridges run at right angles to the river, we bade pantie to
“* eut o ” by following up one of the ravines to the west-
ward—the Cafada de St. Barbara—towards the Miembres
Mountains. Nine miles brought us to a water-hole, called
“La Tenaja” by the Mexicans, where three basins, one above
he other, were scooped out in a large mass of rock, which here
blocks up the channel of the gorge. There is, without doubt,
: beautiful cascade here at’ times; but then (Oct. 14th) the
sed of the stream was quite dry, although one of the natural
basins was nearly full of good soft water. It was, however,
Yuite inaccessible to the stock, which could only approach the
owest bowl with difficulty. The water had therefore to be
oured in bucketfuls from the middle basin down to that below.
- Another march of ten miles brought us to the foot of the
nountains, and we camped at a spot called Mule Spring, where
ye found a good supply of water os digging. -
| VOL. IT.
D
18 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
The most southern spur of the Miembres Mountains, called,
from its highest summit, Cooke’s Peak Range, is about twen y
five miles long. Seven miles from its termination it is cw t
through by Cooke’s Cafion ; but Palmer had heard at Santa z
that another pass existed more to the north, that a train @
wagons had once passed through it, and that it was prac
ticable for a railroad. "We now set to work to find this pass
Our guide, Juan Arrolles, had never even heard of it. Nothins
daunted, we started at daybreak next morning, a little pa
of six, up into the mountains. By twelve o’clock we were
resting our panting horses and surveying the peaks all around
us from a grass-covered eminence. Looking westward, we
saw, a few miles distant, a deep break in the mountains, and
a cafion, or narrow arrayo, leading to it. This we followed
Every mile it became better and smoother, and opened straight
upon the plain without any precipitous descent. Our delight
was great; so we determined to turn back, and trace the
caiion, if possible, across the medium line of the mountains,
and see if it opened upon the eastern plain from which we had
come. After riding all day, we came in view of the eastern
plain, just as sufficient light remained to see it, and to pro
that our labour had not been in vain. We were still far f
camp; mountains were all around us; the sun had set; there
was no moon ; and darkness soon covered everything. W:
could not so much as see the face of our compass, and had t
keep in the closest single file, for fear of losing each seit ;
It was in such a predicament as this that the wonderfa
faculty of locality which is peculiar to the semi-civilised m
shone out so conspicuously. Not one of us could tell eve
the direction of camp; yet the Mexican guide ees u
straight to it, after a three hours’ ride, over country he h
never traversed before, and this, too, i in pitch darkness. It wi
nevertheless a sete ride, » for, regardless of obstacles, we
A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 19
straight over everything, walking, climbing, and riding in
turns, until the sight of our watch-fires gladdened our hearts.
Our poor horses were quite worn out, for they had travelled
at least fifty miles over the pathless mountains.
“Next day we continued the survey. Seven miles brought
s to the entrance of Palmer’s Pass, the name given to it by
us. Eight miles more took us to the summit, and a little
more than two miles further on we came out upon the plain
beyond. The summit is 5,654 feet above tide, 717 above the
entrance to the pass, and the average grade is less than 100
feet per mile on the surface, which could be lessened to
Yabout 75 feet on construction. - By digging we found
water at three places in the pass, at two of which we passed
a night. No sign of wagon-wheels could anywhere be
detected ; and an Indian trail which led through it was
quite overgrown and almost obliterated. The pasturage was
splendid, and there was no scarcity of wood. While the sur-
veyors were running their line through Palmer’s Pass, I
went with some wagons for supplies to Fort Cummings, and
isited Cooke’s Cafion, which pass the fort protects. Hundreds
of miles before we reached it, I listened with anxiety to the
tories told me by the frontier men about the dreadful mas-
res perpetrated by the Indians in that dread gorge. It was
said that even the soldiers dared not stir a mile from the post,
and that it was “ just a toss up” whether any traveller got
hrough alive. These reports were only the surviving echoes
f events which have made Cooke’s Cafion and the Miembres
“Mountains memorable in the annals of New Mexican massacres.
" More than a century and a half ago, the Spaniards, as they
| passed northward in search of gold, discovered in these moun-
Jains vast deposits of copper ore, much of which was virgin
opper, so pure that it could be hammered out into plates as
; came from the mine. At this place, known as the Santa
’ c2
20 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA. |
Rita Copper Mines,* they carried on mining for many years, |
and, as the ruins of a large prison bear testimony, obliged the |
natives by main force to work the mines as their slaves. AS |
in- other places, so it happened here, the white men were
‘swept from the soil, and all mining ceased. When the gold
mines in California were discovered, and parties of emigrants
commenced to cross the continent on their way thither, many}
chose the southern route by the 32nd parallel; and aftet
d
Fort Cummings and Cooke’s Beuk. |
!
Cooke had made two successful trips, had explored the pas ¥
which now bears his name, and had shown that water could [
be obtained at certain places all the way to California, thi [
Toute gained favour. Cooke’s emigrant road, however, BY
dreadfully roundabout; and the sufferings of the emigrant |
Ojo Calientes Gea Mines are forty-one miles from Fort Cummings, 7
en) ere renee ad 110
miles from Masti ayard, ninety-five from Fort Craig direct, an o
GOLD DISCOVERIES. 21
rom want of water and the loss of their stock, might well
orm a subject for one of Mayne Reid’s novels. This passing
o and fro of a mining population naturally led to the re-
pening of the Santa Rita mines, situated as they are close
o the line of travel. Much valuable machinery was put up
ere at an immense expense, together with the most im-
roved method for obtaining the blast. All around the
eighbouring mountain sides other rich discoveries were
“nade. In 1861, the Hanover Mines, six miles to the north,
vere discovered, and furnaces were there erected. The ore
ecurs ramifying through decomposing felspar, sometimes
rom 50 to 60 feet thick, and gave on analysis 72°64 of
xide, or 58 per cent. of metallic copper. A little to the
jouth-west, the San José mines were also discovered, and,
n the same year, the gold mines of Pinos Altos. The region
n which all these mines lie is more than 6,000 feet above
he sea level. I will give the discovery of the latter place,
md the desolation which followed, in the words of General
Jarlton, who visited it before we arrived in the dis-
rict. :
“Tn May, 1860, a Colonel Snively and a party of Cali-
ornian miners came to this region, and discovered gold near
he present site of the town of Pinos Altos, in what is known
as Rich Gulch. In June of that year people commenced
Soming to work in ‘placers.’ In December, 1860, there
oy ere, say, 1,500 here from Chihuahua, Sonora, Texas, and
rom California. They at the same time ‘averaged to the
and’ some ten or fifteen dollars per day. Other gulches
vere discovered during the fall and summer of 1860. In
D ecember, 1860, the first quartz mine was discovered by
Mr. Thomas Mastin with a party of prospectors. This vein
s called the Pacific; it runs through the hill, or mountain
22 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
rather, which constitutes the divide of the continent, and hi
been worked on each slope of that mountain.
“In the spring of 1861 this mine was bought by Mr. Virgl
Mastin, a brother of the discoverer, and it was successfull}
worked during the rest of the year. During 1861 thi
Apache Indians made formidable raids on the stock of th
miners, and nearly stripped them of the means to prosecut
their labours. A severe battle was fought between th
miners and a band of this tribe, under Mangas Colorads
and Cachees. The Indians numbered about five hundre¢
warriors, and came directly into the town now known 2
Pinos Altos, which the miners had established at a poin
central to the scene of their labours. This was on the 27
of September, 1861. Thomas Mastin, who commanded 2
company of volunteers, was killed in this fight. The Indians
were driven off, but the impression they had made on the
minds of the inhabitants of the town was so great as t0
frighten most of the latter away. The breaking out also of
the rebellion had the effect of inducing many to leave. a
few only held on, and amongst them was Mr. Virgil Mastin\
who foresaw the future development of the great onli off
this region.
“Not much was done in discovering or in testing the
merits of new veins from 1861 to 1864, when still another
attempt was made to work the Pacific Mine, and a few one
mines which Mr. Virgil Mastin had in the meantime dis
covered. These latter lodes are known as the Atlantie
Adriatic, and Bear Creek. The work commenced on thes
was prosecuted but a short time, when the Apaches agail
came and stripped the miners of-their stock. This ca set
another suspension of labour until 1866, when Mr. Virgi
Mastin and others organised a company under the name ol!
INDIAN DEPREDATIONS. 23
; 4 he Pinos Altos Mining Company,’ under charter granted
xy the Legislature of New Mexico. This company has
h ee lodes, viz., the Pacific, Atlantic, and Bear Creek,
nd it now has a steam mill in the town of Pinos Altos
June, 1867) which drives three batteries of five stamps
ach. When all three batteries are kept at work night and
ay, they crush twenty tons of ore in twenty-four hours.
the average yield of ore extracted from the Pacific Mine is
‘om eighty to one hundred and fifty dollars per ton. Ore
an be selected from the lode, which will yield one thou-
and dollars per ton. There are now within a radius of six
niles from the centre of the town of Pinos Altos over six
mndred lodes of gold and silver, as I have been informed by
xc od authority.
_ “The population in October, 1866, at the time of renewing
perations by the Pinos Altos Mining Company, did not
xceéd sixty miners. They now numbered from eight hundred
‘© one thousand, and have erected, and are now building, some
rery comfortable dwelling-houses, and some very commodious
tores at Pinos Altos. It is my opinion that before six
ars shall have passed away there will be a town at or
this place larger than Denver, for it may be doubted
f there is on the known surface of the earth an equal
u mber of square miles on which may be found so
jany rich and extensive veins, both of the useful and
» precious metals, as at and near Pinos Altos, New
— ico.’ *
The history of the Pinos Altos miners is the history of
the others in the neighbourhood. In 1862 an act of
sachery. was committed by the troops which brought the
; : ‘New Mexico” (a pamphlet), by Charles P. Clever, Delegate from New
lexi 0, 1 .
24 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Indian hostilities to a climax. Mangas Coloradas, who was )
the greatest chief in the whole country, was induced to enter
a military post, now abolished—Fort M‘Lane, twenty miles
west of the Rio Miembres—on the plea of making a treaty
and receiving presents. The soldiers, however, imprisoned
him in a hut, and the sentry shot him at night, on the excus
that he feared he would escape. This act roused the who
Apache tribe to vengeance. The Miembres Apaches, tk
especial band of the massacred chief, spread themselves fz
and near all over the country, and every white man they coul
find was doomed to fall by their silent arrows. |
Cooke’s Caiion, then traversed almost daily, was one 0
their favourite spots, and it is said that as many as fow!
hundred emigrants, soldiers and Mexicans, have lost thei
lives in that short four-mile gorge. I have conversed with
settler who has counted nine skeletons while passing throug 3
the cafion, and the graves and heaps of stones which now
fringe the road will long bear record of those dreadful times
The breaking out of tle civil war caused the withdrawal ¢
many troops who garrisoned the collections of mud huts
dignified by the name of forts, which were scattered up and
down the country; so that the miners were left at the mercy
of the red men; travel was completely stopped; the brighg
spark of eoleeinine which had just burst into flame wad
the second time since the discovery of the country, actual
snuffed out ; the mines and machinery were abandoned ;
villages left 3 in ruins; and thus the land relapsed once mol
into its original Solitada, ;
Again the wave is turning in favour of the white man am
settlement. Fort Cummings, a charming little fort enclosed i
a Square palisade, now protects Cooke’s Cafion. Fort Bayard
ituated almost oo between Pinos Altos, Santa R
RIO MIEMBRES. 25
and the Hanover Mines, is well garrisoned, and many other
posts have been either reopened or newly established. The
Apaches have learnt in most places that resistance is hope-
less; and while constant warfare ever tends to lessen their
numbers, they cease to increase in anything lke the same
proportion ; game becomes scarcer and scarcer; and as they
do not cultivate the soil, they now confine themselves to
running off” stock, and to murdering any white man who,
unprepared or alone, may fall into their power.
Having surveyed Palmer’s Pass, the whole party moved
forward across the plain drained by the Rio Miembres,
towards the next great obstacle which barred our westward
progress—the Burro Mountains. As the general direction of
Palmer’s Pass is not west, but very nearly north-west, we
came upon the plain on the western side of the mountains,
some sixteen miles north of the western end of Cooke’s
Cafion. 7
After three and a half miles travel, a cafiada, or little
valley covered with dry grass, took us, in four and a half
miles more, straight down to the banks of the river, the
descent in the nine miles being 573 feet. This bright and
sparkling stream, filled with trout and beautifully shaded
‘with cotton-woods and sycamore trees, appeared to our eyes
perfection, for clear liquid water rippling over a pebble
bed is a very rare sight in these regions. Yet, as I rode
through the little stream, about up to my horse’s knees,
d disturbed the wild ducks and widgeon which were here
ry abundant, I could not help smiling as I thought of the
ubble company by which some “ smart” Western speculators
had made this spot memorable. These men thought they
would found a city here. They bought the land—I do not
=, know whether they ever saw it or not—and forthwith issued
26 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
circulars soliciting investments in town lots upon this
magnificent site. Drawings were made of the noble city, im
which might be seen, besides the endless rows of lofty build:
ings, shady avenues, and the broad majestic river, docks, and
a steamboat. These last items were unfortunate, for, in ne
first place, the Great Rio Miembres has got a very. capricious
habit of disappearmg and reappearing, one might say at
pleasure; and in the second, even if it were to flow uninte:
ruptedly for many miles below the “ city,” it would only h
found to empty itself in a small lake, the Laguna de Guz-
man in Chihuahua, which has no communication with the
sea. . . j
Six miles below our camp on the stream is a little Mexican
settlement of some three hundred people. This had been
abandoned for years on account of the Indians, but in 1865 it
was again reinhabited. It is the only “city” as yet to be
found on the Rio Miembres. Much fine bottom-land skirts
the stream from the village to its source, hardly any of which
is cultivated. Many curious natural ruins are to be found near |
the western bank. There are the valley of rocks, the city of
rocks, &c., in which huge masses of sandstone form pillars, |
chimneys, altars, giant mushrooms, and temples which would ,
compare not unfavourably with Stonehenge, had they not been;
geological curiosities only. I enjoyed a few hours’ photo-
graphing amongst these grotesque forms, for they mc,
splendid subjects for the camera.
Six miles beyond the river is a fine hot spring, Ojo
Caliente, the second met with on our route. It issue
from a mound which rises some 50 feet above the level psi
it is some 12 feet deep, and about the same in diameter, and
looks very like the crater of an extinct volcano, although :
mound may have been formed by the incrustations of li
\
\
THE CITY OF BUCKS, RIO MIEMBRES.
,
OJO CALIENTE. 27
Heposited for ages from the water. Carbonic acid gas bubbles
ap continually from the bottom, and the more the bubbles the
hotter the water becomes. The temperature, when I visited
iM, was 127° Fahr. Nitrate of silver produced no precipitate ;
| svaporation, no perceptible residue ; and as the water is taste-
ess and gives no odour of sulphur, I conclude that it is of
musual purity, though not medicinal in any way. I kept an
gg in the crater all night, but it was still uncooked in the
4 Ojo Caliente.
orning ; the spring is, however, a little too hot for bathing,
d would scald any one unfortunate enough to slip into it.
me future hog-raiser will doubtless find it useful. Three
t and smoking streams trickle down from the mound
rough gaps in its side, one of which is conducted into a
h-house, composed of seven rooms. This hydropathic
blishment belongs to Mr. Virgil Mastin, father of the
28 , NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA. ie
chief proprietor in the Pinos Altos Mines. He lives here
with his wife and daughter, and has made his house celebrated
for its well-filled table and delicious dairy produce. I almost
blush with shame when I think of the amount of true animal
enjoyment which half-a-dozen “square meals” gave me at Ojo
Caliente. My readers, however, who have travelled long 1
the wilds, and lived month after month on anything thé
would satisfy the desire for food, will, I am sure, forgive
gluttony.
The garden, irrigated from the hot spring, supplied thi
table with fresh vegetables, amongst which tomatoes and th
delicate Gumbo pod (for our hosts were Southerners, and ha
brought it from the land of cotton) were most worthy 0
notice. The butter was faultless, and told as much for the
richness of its pasturage as for the skill of the fair daughter o
our host. A housekeeper, either in London or New York.
country, when he feels no doubt that he will become a rich
man. He has several springs on his property, besides Ojo
Caliente, around which he can irrigate a good deal of ve y
productive soil. The grazing is unlimited, and, curious 0
relate, the Indians have not as yet “run off” any of his stoc sd
Colton here rejoined our party, and found in my tent a
hearty welcome and a vacant space. He had gone from Fort
Craig down to La Mesilla to procure guides, during which
trip he traversed the “Jornada del Muerto,” or journey a”
death, as the road across the arid plain which lies at the
back of the Sierra del Caballo is called by the Mexicans —
In a distance of eighty miles permanent water is only one
JORNADAS. ee
ound. Jornadas, or long stretches of country without water,
form the greatest difficulty, next to the Indians, which beset
the path of the traveller and emigrant, and they become more
and more frequent until California is reached. Year after
year, however, these jornadas are cut down in length by the
di scovery of springs or better-watered routes, or by digging
put and enlarging transient water-holes, so that a sufficient
supply can be retained in them, after the rains, to last during
the intervening droughts.
Two guides had been engaged by Colton; both were
Americans—one for each party. We could not hope for a better
one than Juan Arrolles, who was still with us; but Colton
having heard that a prospector, named Simpson, had passed
through the largest and most difficult gorge on our proposed line
of survey—the Aravaypa Cafion—thought himself fortunate
in being able to engage him, for very few had ever entered
that defile. It was considered as dangerous as it was known
to be difficult, and even the most experienced of Western
travellers laughed at the idea of our attempting to force our
way through it, or survey it for a railroad.
CHAPTER III.
THE BURRO MOUNTAINS, THE MADRE PLATEAU, FORT BOWIE, AN
‘ WHAT HAPPENED THERE.
Hot Spring (Lemon Spring).—Large Cactus Groves abounding in Game.
—We discover Water at the foot of the Burro Mountains.
riors.—A pache Pana Hort Bowie.—The Surprise.—The Pursuit, Com
rades missing.—The Search.—Another March by Moonlight.—The Grave-
yard amongst the Mountains.
Distance, 108 miles. a
On Friday, October 25th, we left Ojo Caliente, and came,
in less than three miles, to a very fine spring, which bubbled
up vigorously from the ground in a little basin surrounded by
lofty cotton-wood trees. The water, however, was hot, but
not so hot as that we had left. Here we camped while
reconnoissance was made in advance to discover water and ta
direct the course of the survey ; for we had followed neither
road nor trail since leaving the Rio Grande. In the evenj ns
the little party returned, and reported open country ahea
but no water, at least for twenty miles, the distance they ha
been. It was, however, determined to fill up the water-kegs
eight in number, each holding ten gallons, and to push forward
SEARCH FOR WATER. ' 31
© some willows and cotton-wood trees about eighteen miles
istant, where we hoped by digging to find a spring. 7
_ At sunrise next morning (Saturday) we started, traversing
‘aslightly undulating plain, covered, as far as the eye could
teach, with the most magnificent pasturage. For five miles,
3 s we followed a dry valley or trough in the plain, our route
assed through a continuous grove of cactus plants, averaging
rom 10 to 20 feet in height. Here and there a yucca
Volant, or ‘ Spanish bayonet,” shot up its lofty stems amongst
the cacti, adding very much to the grotesqueness of this
urious vegetation. The cactus groves were as thickly stocked
gavith the Gila quail, really a species of grouse, as a moor in
#3cotland with its feathered game of a similar kind. Enormous
oveys of thirty or forty brace rose up on each side as we
assed, and ran along in front of our horses.
# On reaching the willows, no amount of digging produced
@ drop of water ; so after trying several places, both up and
own the dry bed of a stream, we were obliged to put up
y ith a dry camp. The poor horses, as usual in such a plight,
cooked the picture of misery after their dusty march, and
_peemed to-ask with their eyes, “Why are we forgotten ?”
Ve chained up the mules with extra care, and let them kick
“Way to their hearts’ content, and make the night hideous
vith a chorus from their seventy dry throats.
‘Sunday, throughout the expedition, was generally kept as
ay of rest; but this was an anxious one to us, for besides
de mules, we had forty horses and five oxen, and scarcely
: ‘ater enough for cooking and drinking purposes. I joined the
jater-hunters at daybreak, and, armed with spades and picks,
well as our carbines and ‘six-shooters,” we directed our
e towards the Burro Mountains, the next obstacle to the
ward. We had, in fact, nearly crossed the plain between
32 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Cooke’s Range and these mountains, and soon entered a ravine _
leading up to them. After ascending for seven miles, ve
were gladdened by the sight of a little water trickling ove
some rocks. The first glance satisfied me that all was might,
and in a few minutes holes were dug in the dry bed, whid
quickly filled with good spring water. 4
The water question being thus satisfactorily dosdeds 4
messenger was sent back for the whole party, while W
continued our ride for the purpose of exploring the moum
tains, and of finding a cafion supposed to cut through the
near our point of junction. We had received very conflicti
reports about this range (the Burro Mountains). Ata distan
of some twenty or thirty miles it does not appear an imposit
obstacle, for it seems to consist of three mountain masse
united by two long low ridges ; but on approaching these ridg
they turned out really to be only long undulations of ti
plain, which hide from view very rough and formidab!
mountains behind them. Our first surprise occurred whe
on reaching the top of the ridge, we found the real mountai:
still in front of us. We pressed on, however, and after a fe
hours’ more riding the crest of the main range was gaine
and one of the grandest panoramas I have ever seen wé
disclosed to us on all sides.
To the south lay numerous isolated ranges and peak
whose names we did not know, stretching far into old Mexia
and rising out of the great Madre Plateau, which lay betwee
us and them like lofty rock islands from a motionless sea.
the south-east the graceful Florida Mountains retained the
usual outline, while far beyond them the curious peaks of
situated east of the Rio Grande more than a hundred mi
VIEW FROM THE BURRO MOUNTAINS. 33
stant from us. Due east of us lay the range we had left,
th Cooke’s Peak rising nobly from its centre, and the exit of
ir pass (Palmer’s Pass) distinctly visible. Still following the
rcle towards the north, the confused mass of the Miembres
ountains came into view; then those of the Santa Rita and
nos Altos, semi-detached portions of the same. Quite to
2 north, twenty or thirty miles distant, some very high
ow-capped mountains were conspicuous, forming part of
at great system of mountains—the Mogollon Ranges, north
the Rio Gila, the home of the blood-thirsty Apache—which
never yet been explored.
The summit upon which we stood was, in fact, the dividing
lge of the North American continent ; the little water-course
our feet was the first we had reached which flowed down
slopes leading to the Pacific; and the broad arid plains
rich lay between us and our next obstacle to the westward
ve a most extensive forecast of our future course. Nearly
tty miles of almost complete desert, with little chance of a
op of water, formed the undulating plain between us and
e Peloncello Mountains. To the south-east a secondary
n ge, called from its conical peaks the Pyramid Range, filled
) a part of the centre of this vast tract. Our field of vision
d not even end with the Peloncello Mountains, for Juan
rolles, our guide, pointed out in the dim horizon, far beyond
em, the rounded peak of Mount Graham, and the two sharp
2 uds of the Dos Cabezas, the most prominent landmarks in |
» Pina-lefio Range, and the boundaries on each side of Rail-
fid Pass. These ranges all lay far below us ; they evidently
die from a much lower level, and seemed ‘“ show, even to
eye, that the ground sloped rapidly down towards the west.
extensive a panorama as that which I have attempted,
yever feebly, to describe, could never be witnessed in
OL. II. D
84 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Europe, or in ‘any country where the atmosphere is mud
impregnated with moisture. For more than one hundre
miles in almost every direction, nothing seemed to limit :
extent of our vision but the incapability of our eyes |
distinguish objects which were rendered too small by the
remoteness. 3
Our guide knew the cafion we were in search of, 4
brought us next day directly to its head. It was not by
means a gap in the range, but only a large and well-def
gorge on the western sides. We followed it down to
plain. Two miles from the summit a large spring of cl
cold water flowed from beneath a perpendicular mass of ro
and formed a stream, which we followed until the cafion, |
_ out by it, became so narrow and so filled up with rocks a
vegetation that we were obliged to bear away to the rig
and strike it again lower down. The stream had disappea
in the interval, and the cafion from this point gradua
widened out, lost its fertility, and entered the plain as a ¢
open valley, trending towards the Gilas, scarcely twell
miles distant. The length of this cafion, from its head abo
the spring to its entrance as a caiiada or valley on the pla:
is about thirteen miles. For half its course many large é 2
beautiful trees adorn the path, amongst which we recogn
sycamore, a very beautiful species of evergreen oak mt
resembling holly, a black walnut (Juglans Whipplea i
rough-barked cedar (Juniperus pachyderma), pines, piiid
acacia, cypress, mezquit (Algarobia glandulosa), plum, |
several species of cactus. An Indian trail led through’
entire length of the cafion, including the two miles of 4
natrow gorge, and also over the hill, avoiding it, which lal
toute we adopted. It was evident from the recent pi
tracks that the red men still used it, and were proba
A NATURAL WALL OF MARBLE. 35
ell acquainted with all our movements. Other signs were.
scognised by our guide, such as bunches of grass tied up
1d made to point in particular directions, and were looked
on as conclusive evidence of the activity and watchfulness
‘our hidden, but probably ever-present, enemies. Game
as abundant: two kinds of quail, black and white-tailed
er, bears, beavers, squirrels, and hares innumerable. Ex-
msive fires had burnt down the bushes and laid bare large
facts of land all along the base of the mountains.
i While taking advantage of the delay, which the diffi-
fialties of the country necessitated, to enjoy a little deer-
alking and grouse-shooting, Lieutenant Lawson (who
mmanded our escort) and myself were attracted during our
mbles by a curious wall of rock which fringed, like a
gap-dyke, the summit of a rather lofty range of foot-hills.
reaching the top we found that it consisted of a thick
of marble, which had been tilted up vertically
the height of from 7 to 20 feet above the ground, and
at it extended for miles both ways along the hill-tops.
his wall was beautifully variegated with white, grey, and
id marbles, and presented the finest as well as the most
ngular exposure of the kind I have ever seen. In many
aces through the mountains we found quartz ledges, giving
od indications of gold; and near the marble wall a vein of
lena cropped out, of considerable width. Over this vein I
» aot a new and beautiful species of mountain grouse.
i our days were occupied in trying to find a good pass
rough the range, but our efforts were useless. We found,
fer surveying to the summit of the ridge which skirted the —
Se of the mountains, that it was 1,208 feet higher than Ojo
iente, twenty-three miles distant, and that the average
- for the last three miles had exceeded 160 feet per
eS p2
36 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
mile, and this, too, before the mountains themselves had bee
reached. These Burro Mountains were not, as they appear
to be, an ordinary range rising from the plain, but the crownil
ridge or summit of the great continental water-partings ; al
although they rose from a much higher base than the rang
to the east and west -of them, the slope up to their sides .
not rapid enough at first to be distinctly apparent without |
aid of our surveyors’ levels. Nothing remained for us, the
fore, but to abandon the line which we had been survey
and to pass round the southern extremity of the range, twe'
miles distant, by the great Madre Plateau, in which le
district Mr. Runk’s party was then at work.
A march of seventeen miles parallel to the mounta'
brought us to Soldier’s Farewell, a solitary ruin
was once a station on the mail route dw
the short time it was established along 4
52nd parallel. Two miserable water-holes are the
sources of attraction in this place. We feared they m
be empty, as it was the end of the driest season of the ye:
but a shower of rain early that morning had providen ial
filled them partly up agai. While we looked at the thi
green puddle, full of creeping things, slime, and all sorts
abominations, from which we had to drink, a feeling of dre
for the future involuntarily crept over us. q
The whole country had changed, for we had at last enter
that vast plateau upon the 32nd parallel which had |
long been considered the only practicable highway for @
railway route across the continent. The Madre Plateau j
vast plain, extending from the Rio Grande on the east,
3° westward, and separating the Rocky Mountains fi
those of Mexico. How thoroughly I pity the lover of :
beautiful in nature who is obliged to traverse this frig
Oct. 31.
BARNEY STATION. 37
al plain from El] Paso on the Rio Grande to Apache Pass!
1 hough the mountains were still close to us, the landscape
as as dreary as could well be conceived. At the bottom of
, hollow caused by some broken ground lay the two putrid
ater-holes or ponds, overlooked by the tumble-down walls of
coralle and ranche. Before us extended an endless parched-
1 waste; some places were covered with poor grass, others
ere perfectly bare, and as the wind swept over them, clouds
dust were driven along or whirled up into the air like
ars of smoke.
From Soldier’s Farewell we marched westward to the next
fater-hole, ‘ Barney Station” (twenty-one miles), also an
ninhabited ruin like that we had left, and, if anything, more
reary. There were no mountains near it, the land looked a
ead level on every side, and not far distant towards the
uth lay what the Mexicans call a huge “ playa,” or dry
ike. Over such a tract you may travel fifty miles in a
r raight line without crossing a water-course. When it
ins the water collects in whatever part of the almost
aathematically level flat happens to be slightly depressed,
nd here often covers many square miles of land to the depth —
f a foot, or even less. In such places even the scanty grass
f the desert will not grow, and the whole earth becomes
overed, as soon as the rain-water has evaporated, with a
ard white shining crust, resembling eracked china, thus
prming a “ playa.”
‘The water-hole here (Barney Station) was even more dis-
asting than those we had left, for it served to water, not
the men and stock of the “bull-trains” and troops
hich passed through the country, but all the wild animals
velling within a radius of many miles. Flocks of birds,
rge and small, kept going and coming all day long. It
38 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
was a beautiful sight to see them all swoop down toge her
like a sheet of feathers, flutter for an instant over the pod
and then flit away. At sunset might be seen at a e
distance a V-shaped figure approaching from the cloud
this would be a flock of ducks, geese, or teal, coming f
their evening bath. Unhappy stags and herds of ante 0
would stealthily approach, and, not liking the look of i
intruders, make off again. Not so the wolves and coyote
these fellows seemed to suffer frightfully from thirst, |
after we had been camped for a few hours they wo
become so bold, or rather so eager for water, that neit
the whiz of our bullets about their ears nor the crack of o
rifles could keep them away from the pool.
io
rae =
)
seen to perfection until the Madre Plateau is reached. Ha
an hour after sunrise is usually the best time to watch for i
then the distant mountains become distorted into the mo
grotesque and fairy forms. Magnified to many times the
natural size, they appear lifted into the sky, and are thei
cut up, sometimes horizontally, sometimes vertically, by th
peculiar magical haze which surrounds everything.
they look like terraced citadels; sometimes the phantas
takes a pillared form, and presents to the eye ruined templi
like those of Greece or Egypt. This is not only the case wit
torted ; the horses are changed into giraffes, the tents bee om
elongated into snow-capped peaks, while the tufts of
forests of gigantic trees ; every little “playa” become
beautiful lake, from the waters of which are seen reflec
UNEXPECTED ARRIVALS. 39
he magic transformations into which all surrounding objects
lave been changed. So complete is the delusion, that I have
ft en remarked to a companion, as we watched the horsemen
; I ead of us dashing through the midst of a phantom lake, in
hich waves, shadows, spray, and sunlight were all por-
rayed to perfection, “‘ How is it possible thus to disbelieve
me’s senses in broad daylight ?”
_ Barney Station is 4,211 feet above the sea, which is about
he average height of the entire plateau. During the two
jays’ march from our camp at the foot of the mountains we
ad descended 2,000 feet.
, q The sun was setting, and I was just taking a striking
“ticture of desolation, or rather a photograph of Barney
tation in ruins, when two strange objects appeared in sight.
the one developed as it approached into a most dilapidated
nd old-fashioned coach, the other into an equally shaky
pring-cart, and both were drawn by mules; two ladies occu-
died the former and half-a-dozen armed soldiers the latter
‘ehicle. The gentlemen of the party, four in number, rode
n each side of the coach, and completed the travelling
outfit.”
", Between the Rio Gila and the Mexican boundary, Arizona
Doasts of possessing one town, Tucson, on the Santa Cruz
er, now, I believe, the capital of the territory. This was
destination of one of the fair travellers, a very pretty girl
sixteen, in whose veins the fiery blood of Spain had been
ened, but not obliterated, by union with that of our own ;
was returning with her father, an American, having just
ompleted her education at St. Louis. Her companion was
n her way to join her husband at Fort Bowie, and to share
h him the anxieties and solitude of a post which guards
most dangerous pass In Arizona—Apache Pass. We
mele
40 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
shall presently get a glimpse of what such a life is.
easy to fancy what extreme pleasure the presence of our fail
friends gave us. They were just entering the most dange
part of their journey, where defiles had to be passed thro
in which half-a-dozen soldiers and four civilians were a ver
insufficient escort, so that we were delighted to render thet
the protection which increase of numbers afforded. 3
On the afternoon of November 2nd, Mr. Runk’s party cal
in sight, and completed their survey up to our camp i
evening. Since parting from us a month a
they had met with open country, and no obsta¢
but Cooke’s Cafion, through which their route lay.
Apaches had succeeded in driving off half their oxen, b
beyond this all had gone well with them. Altogether y
mustered a large party at Barney Station, and notwithstant
ing the mud puddle of which we thankfully drank, and 1
dreariness of the place, we managed to make ourselves | e:
ceedingly jolly. A little whiskey was discovered among
“* somebody’s luggage ; ;” the fatted calf, our best bulloc
was killed and cooked; and many good stories and bo
adventures were told stand the camp fires. |
A few _— will give the result of Mr. Runk’s survey -
Nov. 2.
Miles, Feet.,;
Fort Craig(on RioGrande) . . ee 3,857
Fort aia to Fort Cummings (foot of Cooke’s
jion) oe ae 4,094
Sirhitait of Gonks” s Cale ; 3 . See ie | 4,384
Foot of ditto . 4,046°7
Continental divide (Madre Plateau at the foot
of Burro Moun side 4,452
Barney Station « 220. 5 See
Total from Fort Craig to Barney Station . 168°8
After leaving the Rio Grande his party had found the cou
STEAN’S PASS. 41
a and desolate in the highest degree, and very similar to”
that last described.
_ Next morning, Lieutenant Lawson, commanding the escort,
| started with nine of our men and some empty wagons to Fort
Bowie for rations and forage; and our new friends, with
Colton and myself, completed the party by joining him also.
_ For twenty-one miles we traversed the level plateau, and
then entered the next range of mountains—the Peloncello
Range; halting a short distance within the pass leading throngh
it, known as Stean’s Pass. At this spot was situated the nly
‘spring to be met with on the road. It was, however, dty on
the surface, and we had not time to deepen it. A beautiful
conical mountain—Stean’s Peak—forms a good landmark for
this pass and spring. From Stean’s Peak to Fort Bowie, in
Apache Pass, leading through the next mountain range (the
Chiricahui), the distance is thirty-six miles, without a drop
f water, making in all a “jornada” of fifty-seven miles
hout one drinking station.
We rested until sunset at Stean’s Peak, in order to avaid
heat of the day, and then started through the grandest
of the pass. The moon was almost at its full, the seas
vas perfectly calm, and a liquid softness smiled upon every- >
: q In ng. These mountains were infested with Indians ; and the
‘ladies were rather nervous, as now and then we passed
‘through a narrow gorge, or under some lofty crag. To keep
‘them in good heart, we sang songs and choruses, in which
they soon joined ; these were re-echoed again and again from
‘side to side. The cavalry rode in front, and the wagons
brought up the rear. Now and again the horses’ hoofs would
ring out and rattle over a bed of rocks ; or the moon, obscured
‘behind the mountain, would suddenly throw a flood of light
‘over the white wagons and glistening rifles of our party.
ie
42 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
The air had become very cool and refreshing, and the scenery |
for at least eight miles through the pass was so grand in its”
rugged barrenness, that, seen at such a time, it left 7
impression never to be forgotten. q
The accompanying engraving, drawn by R. P. Leitch, 1s
taken from two photographs which I made of the pass a few
days later, and is so true to nature that it brings back the
_ Scene with wonderful vividness to my mind.
A march of five hours, at the rate of four miles an hour,
brought us to the Cienega de San Simon, where, as the name
Cienega implies, there is at some seasons of the year a small
marsh, with a little ‘stream running through it. We found,
as we had expected, no signs whatever of water, but plenty
of good grass ; so here we made our midnight halt.
Before daybreak next morning our fires were rekindled,
and our coffee made, for we had carried wood with us from
the. pass ; - and before the sun had peeped over the easterz
mountains we were again on our. way.
Amongst the party was the mail contractor for this road
"Ewies a week a mail carrier rides from Tucson to Fort Bowie
06 miles; another then carries the mails on to Soldier’s
a Farewell, Sighty-nis miles ; where he meets the solitary mail
carrier, who had come froin La Mesilla, 129 miles to the
eastward. The mail-bags are Seine and each returns
the way he came. The men who thus pass unguarded back-
wards and forwards through a hostile Indian country requi '
no small share of reckless bravery. Their pay is high, being.
200 dollars in gold (or £40 a month). The contractor tol i
me that a year never passed without one or more of his ma i"
carriers being “jumped” by the Indians, under which circum
stances he always made a point of carrying the mails himsel
a Seo at least, over the very section of road upd
ol
STEAN'S PASS BY MOONLIGH'
THE CHIRICAHUI APACHES. 43
| h his man had been killed. He had never any difficulty
wards in finding some one else sufficiently reckless to
k his life for the ordinary remuneration.
a u During the latter ten miles of our march most of the route
“iy through thick brushwood, composed of mezquit, grease-
M¥ood (Obione canescens), two kinds of aloe, yucca, a very
| arge species of prickly pear, and other cacti, besides many
“Other kinds of thorny bushes, which formed an almost im-
Fpenctrable thicket, very well adapted for an ambuscade.
Here and there my companion pointed to spots where one or
other of his mail-carriers had been killed, or where he himself
had been “jumped,” and related how he had escaped at this
Place by the speed of his horse, or at that by good service
one by his revolver.
W Many of his anecdotes were most exciting, yet there was
n) I 10 apparent tendency towards exaggeration; while, on the
other hand, he openly avowed that the more you have to do
‘with Indian warfare, the more you dread the Indians, and try
to keep out of their way. ‘Men may be very brave at first,
t the continual anxiety soon takes the dash out of them—
u bet!” and this avowal came from a man of undoubted
ourage. :
_ On reaching the mountains at the entrance of Apache Pass,
he pointed to a foot-hill on the right, and gave me a little
sketch of the Chiricahui Apaches during his residence on
the spot. .
Until the winter of 1861-62 the Apaches of that =o
(Chiricahui Mountains) had not shown any very deter-
mined hostility to the Americans, and the mail company,
for the two years during which they ran coaches along this
route, kept on good terms with them, by giving occasional
presents of blankets and food. At the breaking out of the
‘
44 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
rebellion, however, an upstart Federal officer, named Bar! cet
was sent to take charge of this part of the country, and so
after his arrival at the entrance of Apache Pass, wh
formed his camp, some Mexicans applied to him about
of theirs, whom they suspected had been stolen by
Apaches. Barkett summoned the chief, Cachees, an
head men to the camp. Being on friendly terms with 1
troops, the red men immediately responded to the s mmon
Cachees and his six men, however, positively denied t
charge of kidnapping the boy ; upon which orders for
arrest were immediately given. Cachees in a moment
open the canvas of the tent with his gs alping:
escaped ; his companions were all secured. Se man
Wallace, who had long lived on the most amicable terms
the tribe, volunteered to go alone and treat with them.
did so, and sent back a message to Barkett ¢
opinion, the boy had not been stolen by them, but a
he himself was retained as a hostage in their hands.
became furious, and swore that he would hang the red men
the boy was not returned that night; and he kept his
On the heights to the left, those half-dozen savages were §
up next morning ; and, shocking to relate, poor Wall
had trusted so implicitly to the personal affection sh
him by the red-skins, was immediately hanged on che
of the heights on the opposite side of the pass. This ti
over, Cachees and his entire band fled back once on i
their mountain fastnesses, never more to come in contact
the white man, unless in the execution of their unquer
revenge. :
Fort Bowie is situated about six miles up the pa
consists of a small collection of adobe houses, built.
Summit of a hill, which rises as a natural look-omt
FORT BOWIE. 45
_ the centre of the defile, and commands the road both ways for
_ two or three miles of its length. The only officers at the
_ time of our visit were Lieutenant Carrol, Lieutenant Hubbard,
_ and the resident surgeon; the only troops, one small company
of forty men. The officers insisted upon Lawson, Colton,
q and myself sharing their quarters; they had not had a
_ visitor of any kind for months, and had almost forgotten
_ that the world was inhabited.
| After luncheon I strolled out upon a higher hill-top to
, choose a good position for taking a photograph of the fort
and pass. The view was a very beautiful: one, for we
were hemmed in on all sides by lofty mountains, the most
conspicuous of which is Helen’s Dome. Some two miles
j distant in the pass, the sheep and oxen belonging to the
j fort were peacefully grazing, when suddenly I perceived
j 2 commotion amongst the garrison. All were hurrying to
; the highest part and looking towards the cattle, from
: which direction I heard a few shots fired. It appeared
jon inquiry that the mail-carrier, going west to Tucson, had
ay gone on his way a short distance past the cattle, aon
he immediately turned back to give the alarm to the men
guarding the cattle, and to the sentinels at the fort. The
Indians showed themselves two or three times in the open,
d then disappeared. - It was useless for us, with our wearied
orses, to join in the chase after a couple of naked red men, so
we remained behind.
So poorly supplied was this little fort, if such a term may
applied to a collection of mud huts, that two horses repre-
noted the entire stock, It was customary to keep one of
46 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
them with the herd and the other in the stable, and th
favourite chestnut of the lieutenant’s, a high-mettled, spl
creature, happened this day to be at home. It was
diately saddled. Carrol was quite young; he had only
eighteen summers, and looked even younger, for his hai
very fair, and he had not the least tinge of whisker on his s
cheeks. I remember watching him spring with one
from the ground into his saddle, wave his hand merrily
many views I Hak to aan but my friend, Lieuten
Lawson, could not remain long inactive. He was a
character. Although very short, quite grey with
not in the least like a military man, he was the game
fellow I ever met. So fond of soldiering did he becon
during the war, that he could not settle down again to b
ness. Though one of the steadiest of men, and a rel
man also, a great rarity out West, he actually left his g
wife and family comfortably settled at Cincinnati, changed h
social position from wholesale hardware merchant and
colonel of volunteers to simple lieutenant in the regular
and started to jom a Western regiment. The merest ¢
of a brush with the Indians was irresistible; so he o
out his six men and their six jaded horses, and off they w
down the winding road, and then away out of sight al
pass.
As the afternoon went by, most of the infantry retu
twos and threes, and we were just sitting down to d
when Lieutenant Lawson and his men rode into
Se? Se a epee
TRACKING THE APACHES. 47
They had hunted about all over the mountains and through
t he ravines, but had encountered no savages, nor even caught
a glimpse of a red-skin. Carrol, to our surprise, was not
with them. We made inquiries, and found that all had
reported themselves except the lieutenant and the mail-carrier.
We questioned those who had gone the farthest, and a
Shepherd just back from over the hills; these agreed that
they had heard the distant report of fire-arms, coming appa-
rently from the western plain. This was the direction the
two red-skins had taken. So we saddled our horses without
a moment’s delay, and, with sickening forebodings in our
hearts, started across the mountains to the western plain.
We scrambled up the base of Helen’s Dome, which was so
‘ eep as almost to baffle our horses, well trained as they were
to all sorts of bad places; then, after skirting the side for
"some distance, we crossed a ravine to another mountain slope,
down which we plunged, over large blocks of limestone and
“marble, leading our horses by the bridles, and clambering
through them as best we could. Every moment was precious,
for the sun had almost set before we reached the plain.
_ Then we spread out in line, nine in number; for there was
| r 0 enemy in sight, and our only hope was to strike the trail ;
“for we knew they must have passed somewhere in this direc-
‘ion. Every eye was fixed on the ground, every blade of
e ass was closely scanned; our souls were in our eyes. At
last one marked “pony tracks;” then another ealled out,
“ This way they lead ;” not two, three, or four tracks, but
many ; perhaps a dozen. The white men had evidently fol-
wed too far in pursuit, and falling mto an ambuscade, had
on cut off from their comrades. Most of the hoof-prints
were naked, but two sets were shod. These were certainly
those of the missing horses. We could not hurry on very
48 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
rapidly without losing the trails, and yet there was not hall 4
an hour’s daylight. For three miles farther we pressed on,
carefully tracking our way. We passed aspot much trampled
down and blood-stained. ‘Here the poor fellows had made &
stand ; had probably tried to cut their way back through ther
enemies, who were driving them from the fort. 50,000
» wy Colorado:--4 : ‘i 5 «16,000
Total: . . 440,000
UNDER CULTIVATION.
Acres.
Tres a and vicinity 4 ee 500
Calabasa: = = : . " ji 200
eee. =e : : : ‘ ‘ 500
‘ A : : 50
ae Xavier del Bes ; : ; . ; ‘ ‘ 100
Tucson ; : = : 2,000
Above Pumas Reservation, on Gila < : : < 1,000
Pima Reservation . . : é 1,000
Total \ ‘ 5,350
MAIZE AND WHEAT RAISED IN 1867.
Ibs.
Tres Alamos F ; é i : z 500,000
Calabasas , ‘ é : : ‘ : 200,000
Tubac . ; Z ‘ - : ji i 500,000
i cianucdis ; e ; ‘ ‘ az ; 50,000
San Xavier . ‘ i : : : ‘ ; 50,000
eson j ‘ & é i ‘ . 1,500,000
Gila River, above Reservation . . . « Leer
. : wheat. : ~ 160,000
Indian Reservation ania "950,000
1,000,000
Total . 4,800,000
That part of Southern Arizona lying east of a -
drawn from Baboquivari Peak to the Gila above Sae
possesses, in common with New Mexico, great pastoral aul
EXCESSIVE DRYNESS. 81
tages. It is covered at all times of the year with a magnifi-
cent growth of grama grass—one of the most nutritious
grasses known to stock-raisers ; and at no season of the year
do cattle need other shelter than that afforded by natural
variations in the surface of the ground.
Timber is scarce. In the Santa Catarina and Santa Rita
Mountains pine is abundant, but elsewhere, and then only
upon the immediate banks of the streams, cotton-wood and
mezquit alone are found to supply either timber or fuel. The
latter is a remarkably hard and durable leguminous wood, and
grows in the Lower Gila valley and in the Colorado to a size
large enough for cross-ties, and not unfrequently attains a
diameter of from 18 to 30 inches. It makes the most highly-
; prized pianoforte legs. ’
On the plains in the immediate vicinity of the valleys and
west of the line referred to, bunch or gieta grass is abundant,
and furnishes, in addition to the valley grasses, excellent
| g azing. The Pima and Maricopa Indians, as also the white
and Mexican settlers on the Upper Gila, have large herds of
cattle. Farther west, grass becomes very scarce, and gives
place to grease-wood, wild sage, artemisia, and the numerous
family of cacti, of which the Cereus giganteus is the most
worthy of notice. A story is current that an American in
Central Arizona has been known to climb these terrible fruit
t ees, but there are few who are credulots enough to put any
faith in it ; hence the Far-Western phrase, ‘Up a cactus tree es
The excessive dryness of the atmosphere during the
greater portion of the year has made these otherwise fertile
plains a barren waste. During the months of July and
A ugust a few showers cool the heated traveller, and give
a temporary freshness to the vegetation; and during the month
of December one or two heavy rains may be expected, which
; VOR. By : G ;
82 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.!
raise the streams, and sometimes flood portions of the valleys.
At such times the Gila River, at the Pima villages, is from
50 to 75 yards wide and about 10 feet deep, while near its
mouth it attains a width of 150 yards, with a depth of abo t
12 feet. 3
The summers are intensely hot, and the winters extremely
mild. At Fort Yuma snow is unknown, and the meteorolo-
gical record at the hospital shows the maximum and mini
mum temperature to be 116° and 34° Fahr. At Arizona Ct Ys
on the east bank of the Colorado, and just opposite the fe t,
the mercury has been known to reach 126° in the shade. :
Southern Arizona is wonderfully rich in silver ores, and,
in common with Central Arizona, has immense deposits of the
sulphites, carbonates, and oxides of copper. Gold is also
found in quartz lodes and placers. -
The Colorado River is now navigated to Calville, 612 miles
above its mouth, and about 400 miles south-west of
Lake City. The stream is very uncertain in its charac’
having numerous sand-bars, with a shifting channel, whieh
in places separates into smaller ones, none of which are
readily navigable; but the light-draught steamers used in
navigating this river, on reaching a place of this character,
proceed to the most favourable channel, and force the sandy
bed of the pseudo-channel with poles. These steamers neve
run at night. q
The Colorado Steam Navigation Company have three
steamers and three barges on the river—the Colorado, 70 to
the Coeopa, 100 tons; and the Mojave, 70 tons; the ba
each, 100 tons; total, 540 tons. These vessels draw | f
light, and 2 feet when loaded. The trips are regu a
depending on the arrival of sailing vessels at the mouth
the river, where all freight is transferred to the barges.
wt
NAVIGATION OF THE COLORADO. 83
Freight is carried at the following rates in coin :—
Per measured Ton»
San Francisco to Fort Yuma ‘47-30
i: ee ‘ : . 57°50
x »» Fort Mojave . : pe fi he,
¥ Lumber, from San Francisco to Fort Yuma, 60 dollars per
(1,000 feet. Ore, ag return freight, is carried from the
g Eureka Mines to San Francisco at 15 dollars per ton.
The valley of the Colorado is capable of sustaining a vast
i population. The large areas of arable land along the river.
are separated by cafions, and are known generally as Colorado
‘Valley, Chemehueyis Valley, and Mojave Valley. Between
these great valleys are many smaller ones, besides the vast
tracts of land situated on either side of the river, below the
_ mouth of the Gila. The bottoms are about four miles wide,
‘Subject nearly everywhere to overflow, and capable of raising
the cereals, vegetables, cotton, and, I believe, below the Gila,
Sugar-cane. Vast quantities of cotton-wood, willow, and
Thezquit are found along the river banks and in the valleys.
: Bciton-wood and willow are used by the steamers for fuel,
Mezquit being rejected because of the rapidity with acs it
burns out the grates in the fire-boxes.
_ The following figures were taken from the meteorological
record at Fort Yuma :—
f rain for 1857 . So
tiie oo es 1858 . é . 857
‘ es 1866 . . , 4:20
1867 °: A , 2°94
i At Arizona City is an excellent bridging point, the river
wbeing confined between rocky bluffs. Between these bluffs
fthe river is but 472 feet wide, and from 12 to 37 feet
eep, with a very rapid current.
a2
84 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Crossing the Rio Colorado here to Fort Yuma we find |
ourselyes in the State of California, and but a short distance |
from the Mexican boundary. Perhaps a more uninviting 7
point could not be selected at which to enter the far-fame 1
State, whose name is synonymous with bullion. From the J
Rio Colorado to the Cordillera, or Great Range, stretches a ]
weary desert, 100 miles in width. Traversing this desert, and
crossing the Mexican boundary, is New River, whose waters
(when it has any) run northward into vast shallow lakes. It
is well known that a large part of the desert is below the |
level of high water in the Colorado, and as New River re-
ceives its water from the floods of the former, much of this
land can be irrigated. Here the mirage is seen in great pe -
fection, often deceiving the weary and thirsty traveller. i
The eastern drainage of the Cordilleras is marked by
rapidly-descending cafions, the waters from which find their
way down the long slopes at the foot of the mountains to t he
desert, where they soon disappear in their dry sandy beds. —
The foot-slopes of these mountains ascend from the desert]
by grades of from 50 to 150 feet per mile. Through these e
mountains are three passes, accessible for the Gila route,
viz., Jacomba, Warner’s, and San Gorgonia. The Jacomh
eee by General W. S. Rosecranz, is the mo
southern, and almost on a direct line from Fort Yuma to &
Diego. It would save about sixty miles over the route 0
Warner’s Pass, but it is deemed impracticable for a railroa i. t
Warner’s Pass is practicable, but requires the maximum
grade (116 feet) for several miles, with very heavy and
expensive rock-work. San ciienia Pass is the best of |
three, but too far to the northward to be used were Sal
Diego to be the terminus. Considered with reference to
route by the 35th parallel, it would be its most direct out!
SAN DIEGO BAY. 85
) to the nearest seaport—San Pedro. But if a trans-conti-
-nental railway be built by the Gila route, it is highly pro-
_bable that Warner’s Pass would be selected.
Leaving the summit of Warner’s Pass at the Felipe Ranche,
we descend towards the Pacific coast through lovely valleys,
in which large herds of cattle and horses graze throughout
the year. Here, on vast estates held under Spanish titles,
live the native Californians—wealthy in lands and cattle,
-unprogressive, and, until lately, much opposed to the
American occupancy. |
San Diego Bay has acquired great prominence in view of
the construction of a southern railroad to the Pacific Ocean ;
but its few intelligent Americans are too sanguine of its early
rise to grandeur and wealth. San Francisco, as the great
commercial metropolis of the Pacific States, must be for along
time the great terminus of Pacific railways.
The Bay of San Diego is a perfect place of safety for
vessels, and possesses an advantage over San Francisco Bay m
that it is easy of access from the sea. Its entrance is protected
from the strong westerly winds by a bold promontory, on
which stands the lighthouse. It is not obstructed by a bar ;
_ it is but three-eighths of a mile wide, and never has less than
five fathoms of water at low tide. In 1865, the steamer
Vanderbilt, drawing 223 feet, and loaded with coals, steamed
Into the bay, and discharged at the plaza. The bay has
plenty of water, and good anchorage for vessels of the heaviest
draught, and, if needed, could shelter the whole navy of the
United States. The mean tides are 6% feet, and the highest
ever known, 12 feet. (See plan of harbour facing p- 134.)
San Diego, or “ Old Town,” as it is familiarly called, has a
population of about five hundred souls, mostly natives, and
lies at the northern end of the bay, just below the mouth
86 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
of the San Diego River, and, in consequence of the delta
formed by. the sands carried from the mountains by i?
stream, has no landing. j
New Town, about two miles to the southward, with but
three or four houses, has an excellent landing for coastin 5
vessels ; and to build wharves reaching into deep water would
not be costly. The location of the town is excellent, 4
ground admirably adapted for building, and with ample room 4
in the rear for a large city. There is great need, however,
of good water, most of the water obtained in wells bei ng
‘slightly brackish ; but a growing town could be easily sup
plied from a posal on the San Diego River, about eighteen }
miles distant, where the water is meeety pure and very’
abundant. q
The business of the place is small. About 7,000 barrels of
oil are annually produced from the Californian grey whale, _
which is caught along the coast, and towed to the shore to be.
“tried out.” Some 2,000 head of cattle, a few horses, and a
few hides find their way through the town from Lower
California. :
It has been asserted that the country at the back of f San |
Diego is not capable of cultivation; but I cannot endorse
this. I believe that, with the exception of part of the grail”
required for the sustenance of hundreds of thousands of popu-
lation, the back country can produce everything needed,
including a great excess of cattle and horses; for olives,
oranges, limes, lemons, English walnuts, grapes, pomegranates, :
barley, wheat, and all the vegetables thrive well. |
At the Old San Diego Mission, about six miles above the |
town, and on the river of the same name, are many thriving
though aged olive and orange trees. I saw also at the 0.
Town two old date palms which were planted by the
CLIMATE OF SAN DIEGO. 87
. Jesuit missionaries. These trees give quite a tropical aspect
- to the scenery.
Besides its fine bay, the boast of San Diego is its climate,
which for mildness and salubrity excels that of the most
- famous spots within our natural limits. By the meteorological
record kept here when the place was a military station, the
minimum temperature was 40°, and the maximum 82° Fahr.
_ Frost and snow are of course unknown; and at all seasons of
the year the mild, delightful sea-breezé sets in about ten
o'clock in the morning. The death of a resident is looked
upon as a remarkable event; and when I was introduced to
the resident physician, his dilapidated appearance told plainly
_of a very small visiting list. ‘‘ Why, sir,” said he, leaning
forward with his hands on his knees, and throwing an amount
of earnestness into his dilated eyes which I cannot describe,
“why, sir, a physician would starve to death if he depended
on his practice for a living!”
I would here state that the San Diego River is every winter
bringing down from the mountains a large quantity of sand,
and depositing it in the bay just opposite its entrance, thereby
gradually silting up that part of the harbour. This can be
easily and cheaply remedied. Just north of the harbour 1s
another basin—a false bay separated from it by a narrow flat 5
and it is proposed to direct the waters of the river into this
hitherto useless basin.
_ Southern California, so far as it is yet known, and in the ;
- opinion of eminent geologists, is not rich in useful or precious
“minerals, Gold has been found in a few places, as also
copper, but neither as yet pays for the labour bestowed upon
it. Tin has been found near Temecula, but is believed to
exist only in pockets.
Indications of coal were observed thirteen years ago on the
88 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
_ shore near San Diego by the Mormons, who sunk a shaft to 3
a depth of 863 feet. Veins of good coal were found, varying
in thickness from 6 inches to 44 feet, but during the ne xt 7
year Utah was invaded by the United States’ troops, and
Brigham Young ordered all the faithful to Salt Lake to
defend the “Holy City.” Thus the work was abandon
and the shaft is now full of water. There seems to be no
doubt that the coal can be used for commercial purposes.
From San Diego to Temecula, a distance of fifty-four and
a half miles on the route to San Bernardino (at the western |
end of San Gorgonia Pass), the road bisects numerous strea ns
and dividing ridges nearly at right angles, and presents an
exceedingly rough profile; but from Temecula to San
nardino—fifty-five miles—it traverses almost an unbro!
plain. The streams crossed: are, the San Diego, the Soleda
San Diegito, San Ilejo, San Louis Rey, Temecula, San Jacit
and Santa Anna. These streams are all full and strong, §
most of them difficult to cross, by reason of quicksands};
were obliged to stop and lead our horses across them,
though the bottoms easily sustained the weight of man, t
threatened to swamp the poor horses. Most of these. vall
contain a great deal of arable and extremely fertile
while on hills and in valleys the luxuriant grasses of
fornia sustain immense herds of cattle and horses. Oc
sionally we would pass the “casas” of some wealthy ?
chero, surrounded by orange groves and vineyards, and
several of them we were right hospitably entertained, :
refreshed with the vino del pais.
From San Bernardino, which is a large and ra
increasing wine and fruit town, sixty miles brought us to
Angelos, famed for its salubrious climate, its beautiful wom
and its three thousand acres of vineyards, and twen
saa)
(oust
PASS THROUGH CALIFORNIA. 89
- more to the post of San Pedro, where Colonel Banning, the
- commander, dispenses his hospitality in a charming manner.
_ How we were entertained ; how we tasted wines of various
: vintages; how we passed through San Fernando and Soledad
_ Passes, to the Great Basin east of the mountains ; how we
’ skirted the eastern foot of the mountains to Tehachepa Pass ;
how General Palmer, with the parties from the 35th parallel,
_ joined us there; how we exchanged our tales of adventure ;
_ how we traversed Tulare valley, where the wild flowers were
in bloom and fragrant in December ; how we clambered over
_ the Coast Range at Pacheco Pass ; how we passed through the
- beautiful valley of Santa Clara to San J osé; how we again
_ rode behind a full-grown locomotive into San Francisco ; how
we all met safe and sound at last in the capacious hall of the
- Occidental Hotel; how heartily we commemorated that happy
- event ; and how General Palmer, you, my dear Bell, and myself
; fared on our return trip by Salt Lake City, I must leave for
_ others to relate.
hy
CHAPTER VII.
SONORA.
Leave sac — for the South.—Convalescent Camp.—Cafiada del Or
Mezi -son.—Hunt for a Guide.—Van Alstine.—My Mu
‘ican alien —Routes into Sonora.—The Country.—The Papago Mis
sion of St. Xavier del Bac.—Rio Santa Cruz.—Sopori Ranche.—A
ee off by the Apaches. —Mina Colorado.—Arayaca Valley and Envi
—Ob
aa Rancheria.—Hard travelling.—Lose our way.—Ranche on th
Altar River.—The Midnight Massacre.— Robbers ahead.—Night travelli
for safety.—Coffee. —Querobabi Ranche. —Tabique and its Inmates.
—
pace a few miles to the west of the Sierra de S
Catarina, in the valley of the Rio Santa Cruz, lies the Mexi
town of Tucson. This place of about one
thousand inhabitants contests with Prescott.
in Northern Arizona, the honour of being the chief town
the Territory. Sometimes Prescott is declared to be th
capital, and the few officials who carry on the law business —
of the Territory, whatever that may be, assemble there; the
next year, or the year after, it is changed to Tucson, and the
courts are held there.
Nov. 29.
very rich in minerals, and it was for the purpose of investi- _
gating this question that Colton left the party at Camp Gra
I accompanied him, partly because I wanted to visit the «
Papago mission of St. Xavier del Bac, and partly becat
REACH TUCSON. 91
I was anxious to gain information as to the best way to reach
_ the Port of Guaymas in the Californian Gulf.
We were two days riding the fifty-four miles from Camp
Grant, as it is called, to Tucson. The trail we followed,
which is far shorter than that along the San Pedro, led us
_ out of the valley of that river by a pass almost due west of
_ the post. We then turned southward, keeping the grand
granitic range, the Sierra de Santa Catarina, parallel to and
near us on the west, whilst a broken, inhospitable waste
_ stretched out before us to the north, west, and south, as far
as the eye could reach. This was the commencement of the
_ Sonora Desert.
; _ About twenty-four miles from Camp Grant, we stopped at
a convalescent camp, to which the soldiers who have been
_ reduced by fever and ague in the San Pedro valley are sent
_ to recruit. We found nearly half the garrison here under
4 canvas, their tents perched on a rising ground, at the foot of
_ which was the only spring upon this “ jornada ” of fifty-four
miles. Camp Grant seems to be very unhealthy. It is curious
7 that in an uninhabited country, a good supply of water any-
4 where is almost sure to be accompanied by those pests to all
j early colonists—fever and ague. The men quickly recover
: in this dry upland country to the west of the mountains.
On leaving the convalescent camp next morning, we kept
for about nine miles along the summit of a ridge which
4 bounds a deep gorge, the Cafiada del Oro, lying between the
1 road and the Catarina Mountains. In this gorge gold has
: been found in considerable quantities, and all the western
drainage of the range collecting in it forms quite a ore
after rain. When we came within seven miles of Tucson, we
rapidly descended into the valley of the Rio Santa Cruz,
crossed the dry arroyo coming from the Cafiada del Oro, and
92. NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
entered a vast thicket of mezquit trees, through which our
path led for the rest of the way. These mezquits cover
many square miles in the Santa Cruz valley ; they are mostly —
of small size, averaging 20 feet, but where the river
comes to the surface—it is here mostly subterranean—they |
grow into fine trees. They afford excellent cover for the
Apaches, who are constantly “lifting” the cattle belonging ©
to the inhabitants of Tucson, and preventing agriculture from
being carried on anywhere except in the immediate vicinity ;
of the town. These trees would be most valuable if the :
country were only quit of the red-skins, for they yearly —
_ produce hundreds of tons of the most nutritious beans. 4
I visited a farm in the San Pedro valley before leaving —
Camp Grant; it was only four miles from the fort, and yet
all the crops that autumn had been cut down and carried off —
before they were ripe by the Aravaypa Apaches, and all that |
remained of the stock was a few pigs. Half-a-dozen soldiers _
were kept at this ranche all the year round to try and protect
it, so that the fort might be supplied with fresh farm produce; 4
yet during three years this farm has changed hands thrice; —
the first man was killed, the second was scared away by the —
frequency of the attacks made upon him, the third is now
thoroughly disgusted, and talks of settling amongst the Pimas _
on the Gila, a friend of his having converted seventy dollars :
into two thousand by raising hogs in the mezquit bottom:
lands along that stream.
At Tucson I made all possible inquiries about the best way
to reach Guaymas. My first idea was to go by boat from
Fort Yuma, on the Rio Colorado, and down that river into the j
Gulf; but I learned that no regular line, either of steamers: :
or atin vessels, plied between these places, and that if 4
Water communication failed me, it would be impossible to ae :
HUNT FOR A GUIDE. 93
__ by land, as I should have to traverse the whole length of the
_ Sonora Desert. From Tucson the way by land was open, and I
should be able not only to see the Port of Guaymas, and judge
of its merits as a terminal depét for a railway on the
_ Californian Gulf, but should have an opportunity of traversing
_ Sonora, and of discovering what that out-of-the-way country
was good for, and what route would be most likely to prove
_ the best for a branch railway from the trans-continental main
line.
There was a celebrated guide at Tucson, whose services
I hoped to have obtained; when, however, he heard my
_ proposal, he plainly told me that the risk was too great,
and that he had had so much good luck in his lifetime, that
{ he was getting too old to tempt Providence any more. So
_ I hunted about for somebody else, and had the good fortune
i to meet with a man named Van Alstine who had taken
q refuge in Sonora, knew the country well, and was quite
_ willing, provided of course he got well paid, to conduct me
as far as Hermosillo. I hope I do not malign the character of
1 80 good a companion and so excellent a guide when I confess
_ that at my first introduction to Van Alstine he was hope-
_ lessly drunk, and that he knew very little about the agreement
1 he had made until I routed him up next morning, and told
_ him I was ready to start. He was a tall, wiry old Western
than, of at least sixty, but hale and hearty; though his hair
was grey and scanty, his brain was active and his senses keen ;
4 he was a great talker, and made, as we shall presently see,
_ very good use of his tongue. During the civil war he had
been arrested as a Southern sympathiser, and confined for
nine months at Fort Yuma. This is one of the many
“hottest places on the earth;” so hot was it the summer he
_ was there, that my guide told me of two soldiers who, noted
ie:
94 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
for their evil deeds, had died when the thermometer stood —
at 120° in the shade. The next day they sent back in all
haste for their blankets.
Our “outfit” consisted of the following :—Van Alstine,
riding a miserable grey horse which had seen better days
and was now on his last legs, carried a pair
of saddle-bags, a blanket, carbine, one six-
shooter, a large tin mug, and a canteen. I carried my
buffalo robe instead of a blanket, and had, I regret to say,
one six-shooter extra; in other respects I was similarly
equipped. My saddle-bags contained dry biscuits, a lump of ©
raw bacon, coffee, and salt; also ammunition, tooth-brush, ©
a flannel shirt, hnadketcliists, soap, and socks. 4
We had so far to travel, and so little time at our
disposal, that I had exchanged my mare, Kitty, for a
mule, before leaving Camp Grant. This mule belonged |
to Reed, the guide, and was one of the best specimens |
of these useful animals I have ever met with. He was as |
strong as a lion, and as plump as a partridge. He was
very docile, well used to all kinds of hardships, and could —
keep up a fast walk, or “rack”—as the Americans call it—
of five miles an hour from sunrise to sunset. On entering -
Tucson I became an object of suspicion directly because 4
rode this mule. Reed lives in the Mesilla valley, at the
other side of New Mexico, but an old pal of his recognise A
the animal at once, and, eyeing me suspiciously, asked, “ 4
that ar your mule?” Smothering a slight feeling of resen
ment, I said it was; at which he replied, ‘Then ?’m d——d
if some chap han’t Tosi and stole it from my old chum,
Reed, though I haven’t seen him these three years.” Hew
disgusted when he heard that Joe Reed had really parted wi
his old beast of burden, and, giving me a slight wink by way
Dee. 2,
a
ROUTES THROUGH SONORA. 95
_ of apology, concluded by saying that, if I left the mule with
him, ‘‘I was quite welcome to the difference.”
The present boundary-line. between the United States and
- Mexico has been well chosen, for it pretty nearly coincides
with the southern rim of the Gila Basin. Highlands, covered
with mountain ranges, are encountered all along the boundary
from the Guadaloupe Mountains, which connect the Sierra
_ Madre of Mexico with the Chiricahui Range of Arizona, to
_ the Sonora Desert, and separate the head-waters of the streams
, flowing northward into the Gila from those running south-
ward to the Gulf. )
_ There are several routes by which Sonora may be entered
from the north. There is a depression in the mountains
to the west of Janos, through which a road, or mule trail,
runs from the Casas Grandes valleys across the main divide
into the basin of the Yaqui River. North-west of this
route there is a trail, known as Cooke’s Emigrant Road,
which passes through the Guadaloupe Cafion, and leads to
-Fronteras and Santa Cruz. The same towns can be reached
by following up the Rio San Pedro to its source, and the
southern: country can be penetrated by passing through the
-Cocospera Cafion, and joining the straight road from Tucson at
{ Imures, on the San Ignacio River.” From Tucson there are
three routes by which Hermosillo, the capital of Sonora,
‘may be reached. Ist. There is the straight road up
the Rio Santa Cruz, across the boundary-line at Nogales,
down the San Ignacio River to Magdalena, and thence dae
south to Hermosillo and Guaymas, a distance ig ae
: 2nd. A road branches off to the westward at Canoa, thirty-
four miles south of Tucson, and goes through Aravaca,
across the mountains to the head of the Altar River, vegan .
follows for some distance, then bears eastward again, and
96 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA. -
meets the Magdalena Road at Santa Anna, a town a few miles
south of that place. The third route goes still more to the |
westward. It leaves the second route at Aravaca, goes thence |
to Altar, and strikes the Magdalena Road a few miles north of |
Querobabi, a ranche eighty-five miles north of Hermosillo.* —
The first of these routes is the shortest and best; but it is
the most subject to attack from the wild Indians and robbers
whereas the other two, lying as they do in the Popa
country, are much safer to travel by. These routes were
very little known, whereas the first one had once been partly
surveyed ; this consideration finally decided us upon taking”
a course of our own, in order that we might become acquainted
with the other two routes and their advantages for railroa 1
purposes. 4
Sonora itself is a very mountainous country; from the
Gulf coast it rises gradually to a central plateau, which 1 :
capped by mountains called generally the Sierra Madre.
For at least one hundred miles to the west of the dividing
ridge, range after range covers the whole country. Theit
altitude is not great, but they are very continuous and per :
sistent; they are rugged and narrow, and lie almost m
riably parallel to each other, except about the United States”
boundary, where a transverse line of upheaval seems to have
thrown the whole country there into confusion. The direc
tion of the parallel ranges is mostly north-west by sou
east, with a tendency in the centre of Sonora to run north ané
south. “Along the narrow valleys between these ranges fo
the little streams which rise either on the southern slopes
the northern watershed, or on the western sides of the Sie
Madre; and hard work have they to break through t
succession of ranges. At last, however, when the zigz
* These routes are given, with tables of distances, in the Appendix. —
ST. XAVIER DEL BAC. 97
passages have been traversed from one parallel trough into
mother, and the more open strip of country lying between
the mountains and the coast has at length been reached,
‘the thirsty soil usually swallows up so many of the little
streams that only two of the rivers of Sonora ever succeed in
teaching the sea, namely, the Yaqui and the Mayo; all the
others fail to cross the great Sonora Desert.
After this short glance at the country and the routes, we
will start from Tucson, and follow the Santa Cruz River for
nine miles to St. Xavier del Bac. This place is the most
interesting relic of priestly government to be found in the
entire région which was once Northern Mexico. Here
Stands a large church, cruciform in shape, with a dome over
the intersection of nave and transept. The western front is
lavishly ornamented with plaster saints, filigree work, and
P Hars, and is surmounted by two towers, one only of which
is finished. All round, skirting the roof, is a parapet of
mall pillars, and above this are other ornaments, which help
to screen the roof. On entering the church, the roof causes
the greatest astonishment. It is formed of seven dome-
shaped compartments—three for the nave, one for the chancel,
two for each transept, and one over the central space. Each
0 aa. is ribbed or fluted from a central point, and the
uilt of red brick: even the little pillars which adorn the
ops of the walls are all made of bricks, which were moulded
0 the shapes required before they were baked. The altar is
' very fair one, and above it is an elaborate combination of
lack gilt pillars and saints placed in niches. The centre
f sure is that of a priest, simply dressed in black, with a
three-cornered hat. This, no doubt, is St. Xavier del Bac, a
saint about whose great piety I am, I regret to say, grossly
= VOL. 11.
98 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
ignorant. Most of the ornamentation appeared to be only oj
stucco, yet the gilding was very rich, and has well resisted
the wear and tear of time. Whilst I was examining the
interior, several Papagos came in to pray; they performec
their devotions mostly aloud, and one woman, after pray 7
for some time, began to sing. She made a most horrid noise
something between an Indian war-song and a Gregorial
chant, which “‘ moved me too much,” so I went away.
This church would be considered a fine one in Switzerland
or Germany, yet not a single priest lives here now, and on J
an occasional service is performed by one of the resident
clergy from Tucson. Grouped around it are the conical
thatched huts of the. Papagos, who seem to have taker
shelter under the shadow of the great giant rising from U el
midst. Not a creature lives here except these Indians.
There is not, besides the church, any building larger than @
hut. I wondered, as I looked at this strange sight, whether
it might not have fairly represented a Saxon village in the
twelfth century—a number of huts clustered around a fine
massive Norman church—and whether our ancestors thet
were much more civilised than these Papagos of the preset
day. As the Saxons proved, in the race of centuries, strong®
than their conquerors, will these Papagos also in time regal
their ascendency over us? They are not Red Indians; a
do not belong to that debauched and dégraded stock whit
melts away before the breath of the white man. They are 0
the South—Aztecs, or native Mexicans, as you like—but sem
civilised people, not savages. Already they have risen sv pe
rior to the Spanish element, and have proved themselve
better men than the mixed blood—the Mexican. It ®
therefore, worth while to wait and watch the meeting °
_ the waters, the mingling of streams never before brow
RIO SANTA CRUZ. 99
together—the Anglo-Saxon and the semi-civilised native
American.
How well these Indians must have worked under the
Spanish missionaries to haye built such a church! I have
Seen no other building made of furnace-baked bricks in the
country ; all this they must have learned. Then there was
the building of the roof of brick arches, the moulding of the
ornaments for the towers and decorations, and a thousand
other arts necessary for the successful completion of such an
undertaking. I really know not which to admire most, the
adaptability of the Papagos or the zeal of the priests.
_ Leaving St. Xavier del Bac, we kept to the road along the
valley, occasionally passing an uninhabited ranche, until, after
travelling eighteen miles from the church, we found that an
American had lately taken possession of a ruined house called
“Roade’s Ranche ;” and here we got a shakedown for the
night. 3 '
One word about the Rio Santa Cruz, the eccentric course of
Which can be traced at a glance on the map. For the first 150
miles from its source it is a perennial stream; but four miles
south of Roade’s Ranche, at a spot called Canoa, it usually
si nks below the surface; it then flows underground almost
to St. Xavier (twenty miles), and again reappears at a spot
called Punta de Aqua. The Papagos are thus supplied with
water, and are enabled to raise what crops they er
s*round their huts by means of irrigation. Beyond St. Xavier
it usually again sinks, rising for a third time as a fine body
of water near Tucson, enriching a broad piece of valley for
about ten miles around that town, turning the wheel of a
fair-sized flour mill, and then sinking for ever m the
desert to the north-west. During some seasons it flows further
thar others, so that the length of stream above ground is
a nH 2
- 100 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
subject to considerable variation ; but it never succeeds im
reaching the Rio Gila on the surface, although I believe it flows
over the bed-rock and under the drift which covers it for the
remaining one hundred miles from Tucson to the Maricopa
Wells, where a large spring—the waters of the Rio Santa
Cruz, as is believed—comes to the surface and flows into the
Gila. Wherever water can be obtained, the valley is exceed-
ingly fertile, and might, under cultivation, be made ve
productive. South of Tucson, fine pasturage clothes the
high lands on either side. :
Four miles from Roade’s Ranche, on the following morning;
we left the valley and the main road, and, on reaching Cam
bore to the westward along a tributary strea
until we reached, about mid-day, the next
inhabited ranche, called ‘ Sopori,” distant eleven miles from
our last halting-place. .
This ranche was built on a rock, and still further strengthene
against attack by a wall of stones, which completely surrounde d
it. On climbing up the rock, and getting over the othe
defences, we found in the house five girls and one little boy:
The girls were all grown up, ranging in age from seventeen
to about twenty-five. They met us as if we were
curiosities, and invited us to partake of their meal. Pe
people! it was bad enough, for it consisted of sun ied
Mexican mutton fried in grease, and very badly-made torti
They told us that they were a family of Southerners ;
as we uns could not live with you Yanks, father thought ? :
best to clear out in time.” The father and eldest brothe
were out in the Santa Cruz Mountains, cutting pine for
miners there; but as they had seen nothing of them for th
Dec. 3.
* Flat cakes made of dough without yeast.
SOPORI RANCHE, 101
|
y weeks, they began to “hope that the Indians had not got
: them.”
| The girls chatted away with that perfect ease which
. strikes a stranger so much, even in the humblest of the
| people, provided they are Americans bred and born. This
Jemigrant family got on very well at first, their flocks and
J herds multiplied, and the well-watered strip of land around
killed two of their brothers, and frightened their mother to
/ death when their last little boy was born. ‘“ But,” said the
youngest girl, ‘they haven’t been here now for two years, So
/ we are expecting them every month,” This girl then told
me of her experience in Indian warfare.
About the time of the last visit from the Apaches, she and
fa little Mexican girl were on their way to meet their fathers
at the mines up in the mountains, accompanied by some
peons, when they suddenly fell into an ambuscade. The
Mexican peons fled for their lives, leaving the two girls in
ythe hands of the Apaches, who placed them on ponies and
carried them off across the mountains. At first they were
cindly treated ; but in the meantime the peons had given the
larm, and the father, with all the miners working with him,
When the Apaches found themselves
tard pressed, they stripped the girl (who was then fifteen
yYears old) of everything, even her shoes, knocked her
enseless with a blow on the head from a tomahawk, speared
ler in several places, and, after shooting some arrows into
ter, left her for dead. She rolled off the footpath down the
dank, and was thus hidden from sight when her father and
is party passed by, but a few feet from her. As far as she
‘could make out, it was forty-eight hours before she recovered
Started off in pursuit.
i
102 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
consciousness. Then she found herself covered with blood,
and pierced with arrows, three through her arms and one
through her leg. She broke off the heads and drew them
out, and then tried to crawl up the bank and regain the
footpath. She had no water, no food, no one to help her
and yet thirty miles separated her from the mine, which wai
the nearest point where she could quench her burning thirst,
It is almost impossible to conceive any position so terribl
The idea of a young girl, perfectly naked, wounded im th
manner, and dying of thirst and exhaustion, finding her wa
back over thirty miles of stony path, across mountains, to |
place of safety, is almost too incredible for a sensation novel
and yet this girl did manage to creep, by slow stages, ove
the entire distance, and, in six days of inexpressible suffering
appeared in a state of high delirium before her father. &
told me this in the presence of her sisters; and they we
honest, homely people, who would not, I am confident, §
what was untrue. I saw the scars of three roe :
her arms, and can well believe her when she says that @
her body there are several other scars to bear witness whil
she lives of that terrible journey. Some time afterwards, che
Mexican child was retaken and given back to her ae 4
Van Alstine and I bade our fair hostesses adieu, thanke
them for their hospitality and their chat, and wished that whe
might never see any more of their enemies, the red-skins. — A
we rode along, we talked for many a mile about these fi
daughters, all alone in the Sopori Ranche. They had plen
fire-arms, and knew well how to use them behind their
barricades. But what a life of anxiety and watching is the eis
and what joy it must be to them when their father and brot |
come home safe from the mountains ! q
Eleven miles more brought us to the Colorado or Hei
ARAVACA AND ENVIGUETTA. 103
man Mine. One or two hundred Mexicans still live here in
huts which were built by the proprietors of the mine for their
peons when they established their works ; systematic mining
has, however, for some years been discontinued, although
the yield exceeded 200,000 dollars in silver. The inhabitants
now live by the pickings, and by extracting silver from
the ore in the roughest possible manner. We inspected the
square formed by the adobe houses of the Gambosenos,* and
my guide tried to get a few eggs, and some corn for our
animals; but failing in both, and not liking the looks of the
people, we continued on our way for four miles further. It
was then dark, and finding good grazing ground, we picketed
out our horse and mule, and went to sleep. We remained so
long at Sopori Ranche that this day’s travel was only twenty-
Six miles.
A four miles’ ride before breakfast brought us across a little
dividing ridge into another valley watered by a stream called
: the Aravaca. Here are the deserted furnaces
Dec. 4.” of the Colorado Mine; and arow of telegraph
to the eastward, intending to cross these mountains by the trail
which strikes the head of the Altar River. On this trail, nme
tiles from Aravaca, is to be found Enviguetta—another relic
of mining enterprise—where a fine steam engine and a mill
of, I believe, twenty stamps, with well-built houses for super-
-Intendent, employés, &c., noW stand idle. One man takes care
of this place; and he did us a very good turn.
3 * Poor Mexican miners, who mine each on his own account, and club
_ together for mutual protection.
104 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Van Alstine’s old charger had by this time broken down
_ completely. He could, in fact, go no further ; but we spied a
very fat and docile-looking mule disporting himself near the
mill. Now, amongst the gentlemén of Tucson who were most,
ready to assist me on my trip, and who gave me introduc-
tions which I found most useful, none was more kind than
Dr. Lord. Not only had Dr. Lord all the practice of he
place, but he seemed to have monopolised most of the busi-
ness also; and so active a mind found no difficulty in com-
bining the professions of general merchant and physician with
great ease and profit. He was also superintendent of this
defunct mining company, and owned the mule of which ve
stood so much in need. I therefore persuaded his servant
to lend us the mule for the trip, to be returned by Van
Alstine some time within the space of three ménths. It has
without it—so I hope that, as books nowadays travel evel
further than those who write them, this expression of the
deep obligation I am under to him will some day reach him,
even at Tucson. 7
The account given us of the country ahead by the man i ;
charge of the mill led us to change our course. The trail
leading to the head of the Altar River crossed a divide quite”
impassable for any railroad, but we heard from him that”
through the wide valley which lay to the east of the Babo- |
quivari Peak, an almost level pass led into Sonora, and that aq
trail to Altar went that way. This route was generally, 1
may say, impracticable for travellers, from scarcity of water;
but, as luck would have it, we had heavy showers three days _
in succession, so we concluded to take this latter route, at
BABOQUIVARI PEAK. 105
events far enough to examine the pass at the southern end of
the valley before mentioned, which I shall in future call by a
local Indian name—the Zazabe valley.
A ride of twelve miles next morning (almost due west
from Enviguetta) brought us in sight of the Baboquivari
Peak. From some foot-hills on the east we looked westward
across a valley (Zazabe valley), about twenty-five miles
broad, and thrice that distance in length. Straight in front
of us, on the opposite side, rose a range of bare rocky moun-
tains of exquisite outline, and surmounted by that grand
peak which formed so good a landmark for triangulation
during the Mexican boundary survey—the Baboquivari Peak.
_ The peak itself looks like one huge needle rock, thrust up
_ vertically for a thousand feet above the highest mountain
summit of the range. The valley seemed to be a wide, grass-
- covered trough between two parallel mountain ranges, and
in its centre there was a depression, the only indication of
drainage visible on the surface. Bearing to the southward,
we followed down the valley on the eastern slope until
evening, having a range of mountains always near us on our
left, when we made a dry camp and halted for the night.
_ This day’s journey was about thirty miles.
A five miles’ ride before breakfast next morning brought
us to the end of the valley and to the commencement of the
pass. Here the former had lessened in width
: from twenty-five miles to a passage of scarcely
] half a mile, which rose very gradually between the foot-hills
' of the ranges on each side, and led across the divide out of
’ ‘the Gila Basin. A short distance up @ side arroyo in that
narrow part we found the Zazabe spring, where we watered
our mules and breakfasted. After a ride of eleven miles
further we struck a Papago trail leading from Fresnal and
Dec. 5.
106 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Tecoloti, Indian villages west of the Baboquivari Peak, to the
valley of the Altar River, and although the country looked
anything but inviting, the direction suited us, and we de- |
termined to follow it.
About thirty miles of terribly rough, inhospitable country —
lay between the open plains we were just leaving and the —
Altar River; and so difficult was it to find the way through —
the endless hills and dales, crags and dry water-courses, here _
encountered, that two American prospectors a year and a half
ago lost their way and nearly perished in trying to cross it
in the opposite direction. After travelling some seven miles —
we came to a spring known as Ojo de Santa Lucia, where we —
watered our mules, and on starting afresh, found ourselves —
suddenly in the midst of an Indian rancheria. Huts ap-_
peared all around us, and in considerable alarm I cocked my
carbine, and certainly expected that we were in for a fight. —
I had quite forgotten the Papagos, in whose lands we were
travellmg. These were their huts, so there was nothing to —
fear. Between twenty and thirty temporary huts represented ;
a large party of Indians, who were making one of their |
periodical journeys into Sonora from their own villages in
Arizona, to trade with the Mexicans; and we perceived, from —
the pony and cattle tracks, that they had much stock with —
them.
Twenty miles further, we entered a district at the foot —
of a lofty conical hill, called Sombraritto, from its resem- —
blance to a hat, where a great number of gold quartz veins —
crop out on all sides, and where native miners are wont —
to wash for gold at certain seasons when the gullies contain |
water. Here the little indistinct paths were so numerous —
that we lost our way, and got entangled in the cafions and '
arroyos which cut the country into a thousand segments. —
mere MR Ns fee Pee et NTN
LOSE THE TRAIL. 107
Of course I had a compass, and we first tried to steer by it;
our mules responded well to the spurs, and we kept them
jogging along and climbing up and down the most terrible
places. However, the country got worse, and by sunset this
miode of solving the difficulty was proved a failure. Van
Alstine then determined to keep to one arroyo, and follow it,
if possible, down to the Altar River.
On we went, hour after hour, winding about at the bottom
of the gully, now pushing through thick brushwood, then
climbing over masses of rock, sometimes in the darkness
knocking our heads against overhanging branches ; for, as the
moon was obscured by clouds, the mules alone were able to
see. About ten o’clock we almost tumbled up to the animals’
necks, without knowing it, into a wide stream, which proved
to be the Altar River. We found a road on the other side,
and, four miles further, a ranche, where we pulled up. I
passed a capital night coiled up in my buffalo robe at the
bottom of a cart in the yard, but a worse fifty miles I never
passed over than those which formed our fourth day’s march.
One day’s rest was absolutely necessary to the mules, so
next morning we did not go further than six miles, where
was another ranche at which we could obtain
accommodation, and something to eat besides
dried mutton and tortillas. Here we passed the next
twenty-four hours, and here occurred a tragedy which is, I
think, worth relating.
This ranche was a good representative of its class. It was
built of adobe on a rising ground overlooking the narrow
little valley of the Altar River, and was to all intents and
purposes a fortification. Four walls about 12 feet high,
without windows, enclosed it in the form of a square ; and at
three of the angles three watch-towers—also built of adobe—
Dec. 6.
108 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
with loopholes, formed the defences. A large gateway opened —
through the house into the yard, leading to the stables, sheds, —
and pigsties, all of which were enclosed in the wall. On _
entering the gateway, a door led to the right and left into two —
large rooms; one was the storehouse and barn, the other the —
general sleeping apartment, common to all the inmates. Of ©
course, no beds, or other luxuries which ordinarily denote a
bed-room, were visible, but an old-fashioned oaken press and
a well-swept floor sufficiently suggested the fact to any one
accustomed to rustic Mexican life. Cooking and household —
duties generally were carried on in the outhouses, which were ~
built against the high wall all around the yard. :
After walking the mules through the house to their sheds, —
and giving them plenty of corn (maize) and corn-stalks, we
watched with pleasure the decapitation of a fowl and other |
preparations made by our good hostess for the coming meal. —
How good was that fowl, and the poached eggs which followed
it! When bedtime arrived our little party had increased to
a tolerably good roomful, considering that we had all to take
possession of different parts of the floor. There were of the
household the mother, the aunt, the father, three little boys,
and the baby, two farm-servants, and the maid-of-all-work.
We all packed into the room, Mexican fashion; and, laying
down my buffalo robe as close to the doorway as possible,
with my head on my saddle, and my fire-arms by my side, I
was soon oblivious.
When the lords of creation had made themselves com-
fortable, in crept the feathered fowl. A fine old cock and his
wives perched on the shelf just over my head, and a lot of
little chickens secreted themselves behind the press before
_ ™entioned. These were soon asleep. At midnight, however,
_ the enemy came. I was suddenly aroused from my sweetest
THE MIDNIGHT MASSACRE. 109
slumbers by feeling my face most unmercifully scratched ;
_ the air was filled with the flutter of birds and the screaming
of domestic fowl. I seized both pistols and stared hopelessly
into the darkness ; up started the maid-of-all-work, and one
or two more, who tumbled over others in their attempts to
escape, and thus completed the general confusion. At last a
match was struck, and lo! nothing could be seen but a brood
of terrified chickens. There was a cause for their alarm, and
this cause we found behind the press.
When the human beings and the fowls had fallen to
sleep, a pretty-looking little quadruped thought that this
- bed-room would be a very nice place for him also. He
looks like a cross between a fox and a ferret, and carries
a fine bushy tail; his body is striped with black and
_ white, and he rejoices in the name of Skunk. Half-a-dozen
chickens had already fallen a prey to his teeth and claws,
and he was enjoying the flavour of their heads so much
that no amount of probing up with divers long poles would
make him stir from his hiding-place behind the press, so
: we sent a bullet through his head. He had his revenge,
but he kept it to the last; for the stench which instantly
- followed that shot baffles description. After much good
training I thought I could have slept through anything, or
in the company of any one, but I had never before tried a
skunk. I went away, and, as it was raining, took refuge
| with my docile mule. The most wonderful part of this little
incident still remains to be told: the Mexicans, after
grumbling a little about being disturbed, went back to their
blankets, and slept it out until morning without more ado.
_ Thus ended the adventure of the chickens, the skunk, and
_ the midnight massacre.
With replenished saddle-bags and rested animals we started
110 3 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
afresh after a good breakfast, directing our course for a couple
of miles further down the Altar valley, and
then branching off to the southward on a trail
leading to Santa Anna, across another rough belt of oa
lying between the Altar and San Ignacio streams.
We passed on the way two more collections of Papago
huts, made but a few days back to shelter the same party
from the heavy showers which had lately fallen. Not ong
had we met any one on the road since entering Sonora, and
we were congratulating ourselves upon nearing an inhabited
region, and having safely escaped all dangers from Indians,
when a Mexican gentleman and his servant came in view.
Seeing that we were travellers, he stopped and had an ani-
mated conversation with Van Alstine, the purport of wha :
was, that some miles further on the road we intended to tal
he had been attacked by robbers, and but for the bold front ot
shown by himself and his servant, they would most certainly
have been robbed, if not murdered. Both were well armed,
and they kept the brigands at bay by holding their loaded”
rifles steadily to their shoulders as they passed rapidly on.
This gentleman also stated that, a few days previously, an
obnoxious justice of the peace had been robbed and murdered
‘on the road, that the people were afraid to pass from
village to another, and that this lawless state of affairs”
extended down to the outskirts of Hermosillo. This news
was not pleasant for us. ‘
After riding twenty miles we caine to some stagnant water,
where we gave our mules a drink and filled up our canteens.
A little further we entered a timbered country, covered chic
with mezquit, and here we rested until night arrived, whet
we saddled up and continued our journey. The moon
about ten o’clock, and gave rather too much light for peace
Dec. 7.
SANTA ANNA. 111
travellers in so dangerous a country. In a few hours we
came within five miles of the San Ignacio River, upon which
stream there are numerous settlements. Here we halted
and slept out the remainder of the night, having completed
about forty miles since starting in the morning.
Just as we were making a fresh start a suspicious-looking
_ ruffian rode up to us, and wanted to know where we were.
going. We told him we were going all over
the country, and showed him how beautifully
six cartridges were packed away in the butt of our carbines,
after which he took himself off.
Van Alstine had a friend at Santa Anna, a young Mexican
dandy, who thought no small beer of himself. He had been to
Europe and the States, and had made a good deal of money
as a miller in his native village since his return. He spoke
English fluently, and gave us some really good coffee for
breakfast, after which we went on our way. At the little
town of Santa Anna we struck the high road from Magdalena,
the largest settlement on the San Ignacio River, and followed it
for the rest of the way to Hermosillo. At Barajitta, a small
| mining village twelve miles from Santa Anna, I obtained a
fine specimen of gold quartz. About twenty-six miles further
we came to some tanks close to the point where a trail from
Alameda joins the main road, and as we had made nearly
: forty miles since morning, we concluded to halt; so, after
watering our mules, filling our canteens and tin cans, and
| going a couple of miles away from the water-tanks for safety,
we again took refuge in the woods, lighted a little fire, and
cooked our evening meal.
‘What would the traveller do without coffee? Of all
things it is the most necessary ; it matters little what you
‘ have to eat, provided it fills the vacant place within, for all
Dec. 8.
112 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
the comfort comes from the coffee. It matters not how bad
the water is, for plenty of coffee puts it all right. Cold,
wet, and weary, our tin mug of black steaming coffee proved
the best of night-cap, and a quart a day (that is, a pint to —
each meal) we found to be only just sufficient for one person.
When you must work hard and brave all weathers, even
the pipe must yield at last to coffee. '
Two ranches only fill up the long distance of eighty miles” |
between the San Ignacio and San Miguel rivers, and as we }
wished to avoid notice as much as possible, and to prevent
any of the Mexican idlers who prowl about these places
from laying any plans to waylay and rob us, we purposely —
travelled in a very eccentric manner, sometimes by day, 7
sometimes by night, and never stopped long at any of these —
places. Thus we reached Querobabi early in ~
the morning, made a hasty meal, gave our —
mules some corn—the real object of our visit—and started on F
again.
Querobabi is a large ruined stock-farm, where once some —
great Spanish stock raiser lived in barbaric state, owned vast
flocks and herds which roamed all over this fine pasture
country, and kept a large number of rancheros, peons, and
retainers at his establishment. Such places are found all 4
over the country, either quite deserted and in ruins, or partly
inhabited, though stripped of all their former greatness. At 1
this place I found five men of the Papago tribe standing at |
the entrance ; they wore clean white cotton mantles throwD q
over their showtdaes in the Spanish fashion—leggings, q
moccasins, and broad straw sombreros. As I stood by them —
I felt a dwarf, and on measuring them I found that the
average height of the five was 6 feet 3 inches. There are,
probably, few races of greater stature than the Papago’
Their skin was almost black.
Dec. 9.
QUEROBABI. ~ 113
The present occupiers of Querobabi seemed to have
nothing about them to cause suspicion. They took advantage
of the presence of a doctor to hold a long consultation with
me, and the gift of a small box of pills placed us on excellent
terms. But the next ranche, Tabique, had a bad name. Its
owners had joined the Imperialist party, and lost their all in
defence of Maximilian’; and it was rumoured that since their
‘return from temporary exile, they were in the habit of
harbouring brigands, even if they did not go so far as to join ”
them in their marauding excursions. This place was thirty-
was that contained in the tank belonging to this ranche; it
was enclosed by a wall and thick hedge, which passed around
‘it from the ends of the building at the back.
_ As there was no help for it, we jogged up to the entrance
gateway on our tired mules just after sunset; looking, I
imagine, as poor a pair of travellers as often passed through
this deserted country ; and a curious lot of people we found
inside. All around the central enclosure different families of
peons were gathered together under the tumble-down sheds
‘or outhouses which had been built against the lofty outer
wall. They were cooking their meals around the different
fires, the lights from which flickered up between the legs and
arms of the naked children, and half disclosed the features of
the women, whose swarthy complexions and piercing black
eyes peeped out from beneath the large shawls and robosos
"which covered them. The old mansion had been burned
down in the late war, and blackened ruins appeared here and
: there, adding greatly to the general desolation.
- Lounging at the gate, or occupying the few benches which
the place afforded, were the male portion of the community.
; VOL. i. : I
114 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
;
Here we had a score or more of the most complete cing
of the stage brigand. A black matted beard, and a huge
sombrero drawn well over the eyes, effectually hid their
faces ; they wore mantles thrown across their shoulders, long
boots reaching far above the knee, with huge silver spurs;
the fringes of their leather breeches hung over their boots;
and knives and revolvers were but half concealed beneath
their mantles. Van Alstine was, as usual, quite master of
‘the occasion ; he had a hearty word for the men, and chatted.
so much with the women, that it seemed as if he had never |
in his life been in such agreeable company. We watered and
fed our mules, and succeeded in disposing of supper, after
talking enough had been gone through to drive me —
wild; for, alas! I was unable to join, and could not conceive
how they could find so much to talk about. The men, having '
also supped and inspected us thoroughly, smoked a cigaritta
and gradually dispersed. When the place was pretty quiet,
and the gates were being secured for the night, we saddled ;
up and took our leave. This was a master-stroke of policy,
and very probably saved us from attack ; and as it is safer tO
natives—we had good cause for mutual congratulations.
_ Twenty miles further, we rode through the thick forest which
had been reported so dangerous by the traveller we had met
the day before, and then halted, as usual, in the bush, to giv@
ourselves and mules a little rest, having travelled fifty-seved
miles since starting the morning before. We had campeé
just at the outskirts of the mezquit forest, and, as it prove?
next morning, on the edge of the dry, streamless plateau. *
range of mountains bounded us, all through the day ane
night, on our left, and appeared to be a continuation of ne
TORREON. 115
_range which lies to the east of Magdalena and the upper
portion of the San Ignacio River.
Next morning we had scarcely started when we perceived
a gap in this range a little to the southward, and as the sun
rose we looked down upon a silver thread
; _ emerging from it; and soon a lovely rich
ereen valley, studded with palm trees, settlements, and
orange groves, came into view at our feet. We had reached
the valley of the San Miguel River, and a ride of three miles
brought us by a rapid descent to the picturesque little village
_ of Torreon. .
| From the moment we crossed the divide out of the Gila
| Basin, near the boundary-line, we had been descending at the
. rate of at least 1,000 feet in every fifty miles ; and as at the
same time we were travelling due south, the change in
_ climate was very considerable. I was heavily clad at starting ;
but the days were now too hot to wear a coat with any degree
of pleasure, and we usually took ours off, preferring to ride in
our shirt sleeves. And here, at last, we had reached the region
' where the date palm, the banana, plantain, and other hardy
@ palms are to be found. ‘The first view of palm trees growing
Dec. 10.
| this valley, dotted with groups of these trees, coming s0
ae ther world. The
i * It is probabl tion to say that
: y no exaggeration y
| Species of cactus are to be found about the boundary -line of Mexico. —
ur’
added to the catalogue of this
The seventy-two exquisite plates
12
a6 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
were accompanied by large thick-stemmed mezquit trees, each
carrying a fortune in pianoforte legs, and many hard prickly
shrubs, whose tiny leaves and beautiful flowers were just
opening to enjoy the spring; but the contrast between the
crabbed, drought-stunted foliage of the plateau, and the
graceful verdure in the San Miguel valley, was great indeed. —
At Torreon every little adobe building looks like a summer-_
house placed in a garden. Palms shade it from the sun ; high
hedges of prickly pear—Nopala Castiliana, as the Mexicans
call it—keep out the pigs and the cattle ; and groves of large
orange trees, golden with fruit, lead down to the river at the
back. We chose the prettiest of these baby-houses, and
tapped at the cane door. Two girls, neatly dressed in prints
and white aprons, came to let us in. They had only just
reached womanhood, and were very good-looking; but their”
cast of features was quite new to me. Their faces were oval,
almost round ; eyes large, soft, and very round, of a dark blue |
colour. Their complexion was rich olive, but not as dark as
that of the Mexicans generally. Their hair was jet black,
neatly dressed; their voices were soft; and they laughed r
merrily when Van Alstine asked them if they would take
compassion on two such queer-looking foreigners. My com- 4
panion-knew at once that théy were pure-blooded Opita
Indians.
This was my introduction to the most courteous race
Species.
- 23
OPITA INDIAN GIRLS. 117
_ of Indians on the North American continent. The early
Spaniards speak of them in glowing terms. In a previous
chapter Father Marco’s testimony is mentioned; but the
Strongest tribute paid to them by the Spaniards is that of
-haming the State, Sonora. The Opita country extends from
the Rio San Miguel eastward to the Sierra Madre. It is a fine
country, and the people are a brave and manly race. They
were greatly delighted with the beauty of the first Spanish
lady who visited them; and as they could not give the
Spanish twang to the fi, and wished to address her in her
native tongue, they called her ‘“ Sonora,” and the Spaniards,
out of compliment to them, gave that name to the State.
It seems to be the fashion amongst many travellers to extol
the beauty of savage races ; to paint glowing pictures of young
Indian squaws, and almost to rave about Hottentot Venuses.
Ihave seen some fine races of Indians, and men, as well as
Women, of perfect symmetry; but beauty I consider quite
out of the question. The faces of all I met, who had passed
their childhood, were completely devoid of any single expres-
Sion which could call forth other feelings than those of
‘curiosity or disgust, until I encountered the Opitas of Sonora.
The Mexicans generally are gifted with a very small share
| of good looks; chiefly, no doubt, because the Indian element
has overpowered and often destroyed the fine features of the
‘Spaniard. But the settlements along the two rivers which
‘unite at Hermosillo, and form the Rio Sonora, have been
famed during two centuries for the beauty of their women,
and this reputation I fully endorse ; indeed, the mixture of
Spanish with Opita blood could not fail to produce such a
Tesult. As I passed along the streets of Hermosillo, and
| watched the women assembling for matins, or ne from
Some religious festival, their chief occupation, 1 Recognised sn
118 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
most of the pretty women—and these were not a few—the |
round, oval face and the large, soft, dark blue eyes of the
Opita as distinctly as if I had known their great oranda
mothers. I must not forget, however, that we have stopped
at the threshold of the little ranche at Torreon, and that 1
have much more to tell about the Opitas hereafter.
Our mules just managed to squeeze through the door into
the house, and out to the back-yard, where they got a famous
breakfast. The girls set to work, and gave us large bowls of
pap-corn and milk, followed by eggs, fowls nicely cooked,
coffee, and hot tortillas. Van Alstine was more talkative
than ever. Unfortunately for myself, I could not tell them
that I was the bachelor of the party; and, in fact, I found
‘the position very trying, particularly whilst the tortillas were
being made.
_ Nowif there is one feminine occupation more graceful than
all others; if there is one which shows in the highest perfec-
tion the delves hand and the rounded arm, and suggests,
by an easy movement of the chest and jeoaky the curves and
outline of figure we love to admire in their perfection, it is
the manufacture of tortillas. A lump of dough, which has
been carefully prepared from Indian corn, finely ground,
placed between the palms of the hands, and whilst the arms
are raised a little, a whirling motion is given to the dough,
until, by gentle pressure most delicately applied, it is flattened
out into a dise about a foot in diameter, and as thin as 4
wafer. It is then skilfully jerked upon a flat dish, and
lightly baked. I would far rather see them made than eat
them ; for they are very much like my idea of underdoné
chasnaih leather.
When we had finished eating, the old father — - ims
the orange grove, and filled our pockets with ma
PAPAGOS IN PETTICOATS. 119
oranges and limes. He showed us his stock of corn, his
fields, and his poultry ; and after a rest of about three hours,
he insisted upon saddling our mules himself, and would only
receive payment for the fruit. Thus refreshed at the out-
skirts of the settlements—for the country we had passed
through was practically uninhabited—we crossed the river,
and proceeded on our way to Hermosillo through avenues of
large cotton-wood trees, past several settlements and some
fine haciendas. The hacienda of Labor looks like a large
—country-house, reminding you, however, of Spain and the
Alhambra by its horse-shoe arches and Moorish arcades.
Leading up to it is a broad avenue, lmed on each side with
- the square-shaped huts of the peons, made of canes, lightly
thatched and shaded by the trees above. Here humming-
_ birds were fluttering over the flowers near the house.
All around, and for some distance above the river, every
acre appeared to be under cultivation. The banks were
- clothed on both sides, to the water’s edge, with plantations
of sugar-cane; beyond these, some thousands of acres of
- cotton had just ceased to bear the feathéry pods; and further
_ back, again, were fields of maize, wheat, and beans.
On the outskirts of this and several other settlements
passed on the way we met some of our old friends, the Papago
Indians. They had built very neat conical huts, thatched with
care, and seemed to be domg a prosperous trade with the
: Mexicans. |
Now, I remember very well in England, before I ever |
thought of coming to this out-of-the-way part of the globe,
- that some near relations of mine used to meet other girls of
| their acquaintance, given like themselves to good works, for
the purpose of holding Dorcas meetings and making clothes
_ to cover the poor heathen. I long tried in vain to discover
120 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
what garments were considered by my fair acquaintances to q
be most appropriate, and what heathens were to be the .
fortunate recipients of their gifts. At last, in an unguarded —
moment, the secret came out—they were red flannel petticoats —
for the North American Indians. In my ignorance I laughed L,
at the novelty of the idea; I even made fun of it, regardless
of their wounded feelings. But of the existence of Papagos I ;
was then entirely ignorant, so that great was my wonder and —
delight when I made the discovery that the most highly-prized —
garments worn by the squaws were red flannel petticoats.
There they were, without a doubt; almost every woman wore ~
one. Their breasts were bare, and no stockings covered their —
legs, but the garment of garments, so modest and unobtrusive,
could not be overlooked. :
All the water of the river being absorbed by the Hacienda |
de la Labor, eight miles of dusty road have to be traversed —
before any more cultivation is seen, and then another large —
farm is passed—the Hacienda del Alamita—owned by Signor
Inigo, and containing several thousand acres of irrigated land.
A wood, nine miles lorig, lies between this place and the capital —
—Hermosillo; and when we arrived at the entrance to it, we 1
found three poor labourers and a woman, each armed with a—
bayonet only, waiting for an escort of some sort through the —
wood. All day long they had been wanting to return to their
own village, but so unsafe was it to pass through the wood E
that they feared to proceed alone. Our three revolvers and —
two repeating rifles gave them confidence, and they trotted q
close behind us all the way. We passed a mule which had 1
been killed the day before ina skirmish, and the vultures were —
anxiously waiting on all sides for the dainty meal to putrefy- ;
At another place, where an arroyo crossed the road, one of the :
- Men pointed to some large rocks, and said, “There has been q
WE REACH HERMOSILLO. 121
much mourning caused here ;” but good fortune favoured us
to the end of our journey, and we were stopped by no one.
The long distances we had travelled day after day, and
especially the extra night-work, had nearly finished off our
mules. This last ride made mine stone-lame, and Van
Alstine’s could scarcely hobble along. In this condition, late
in the afternoon of a dry, dusty, sultry day, bereft of coats,
wearied and travel-stained, with our tin mugs and other traps
dangling behind us, we entered Hermosillo. We passed some
Mexican dandies taking their evening ride on showy horses
with gaudy trappings, and followed by their armed servants ;
then, being painfully alive to our wretched appearance, and
- not wishing to meet any of our future friends, we entered a
side alley and gained our hotel by a circuitous route, where
_ We soon indulged, with infinite relish after our weary ride, in
a good tub and a hearty supper.
CHAPTER VIII.
HERMOSILLO.
Peculiarity of its Situation.—A Marble Mound.—The Town.—Architecture of —
the Houses.—The Gardens.—Ruinous.—The City taken and retaken
several times during the War.—Assault by the Liberals.—Rescued by the
Opita Indi
dians
compared.—A nnexation.—Any Change must be for the better.
HERMOSILLO is a most curious and interesting old town. ©
In the first place, its situation is peculiar. For 2° of lati-
tude our route had been on the eastern side of a vast
plain, not far from the base of the mountains. On the —
western side of this plain lies another range, too distant to
be seen from Santa Anna, but gradually encroaching up? —
the plain until it jos the eastern range a little below
Hermosillo. The San Miguel River emerges from the eastern
range just above Torreon, and, having joined the Rio Sonora, |
cuts through the western range at Hermosillo. In the very
gap through which the river passes the city is built. In the
centre of this gap, and rising high above the houses all
around it, is a curious natural mound composed of variegated —
marbles, chiefly white and pink, which stands out boldly —
against the sky. It is called by the Mexicans “ Bell Rock,” —
on account of the metallic sound given out by the strata whem —
struck. oe
One would suppose, from the size of the place, that —
it contained about 15,000 inhabitants; but as every third
SA Ree Se ee See ee YN eae ee es PR ee RM ne a ee TR
PLAN OF THE HOUSES. 123
house proves, on inspection, to be uninhabited, 9,000 is pro-
bably more nearly the population. A large Moorish town
in Spain of about the seventeenth century was probably not
unlike what Hermosillo is at the present day. Many of
the houses are very large, and cover several acres. They
are built of adobe, one story high, with very solid walls,
and contain large, lofty rooms. Outside they are orna-
mented more or less with paint and stucco. No windows
are usually to be seen; if a few do face the street they are
guarded with strong iron bars, and differ in shape from our”
ordinary windows in being narrower at the top than below.
They represent, in fact, that shaped cornice which the Moors
introduced from Egypt into Spain, and the Spaniards into
Mexico; and thus it has travelled more than half around the
world. An archway in the centre of the block leads through
huge oaken doors to the sahaun, or hall, with large rooms on
either side, and a court, or patio, im front. The court is
surrounded with a deep verandah, forming “the corradoa,”
supported all round by a massive Moorish arcade, and orna-
mented with birdeages, statuary, creeping plants, flowers, and
palms, with a fountain in the centre of the patio. Doors
open upon the corradoa from the different rooms, none of
which are set apart exclusively for sleeping ; for during most
of the year temporary cane cots are placed in the corradoa at
bedtime, and removed every morning. Facing the sahaun,
or entrance-hall, on the opposite side of the patio, is usually
another archway, through which a vista, cool and refreshing,
is obtained of the garden. Every house of any pretensions has
a garden at the back. It is usually small, shut in by very
high walls on all sides, and filled with tropical and semi-
tropical plants, orange trees, banana palms, poison olive, fruit-
bearing cacti, and flowering creepers ; it is also ornamented
¢
124 NEW TRACKS IN’ NORTH AMERICA.
with little bowers and summer-houses, in which tame birds —
chirp and twitter. |
Numerous irrigating canals run through the city, and send ~
off branches to the different mansions; and although in years —
gone by the wealthy families must have lived in great luxury, —
it was the luxury of an age very picturesque, but long passed —
away in Europe. There are two plazas, several churches, a —
large mint—the only modern building in the town—a fine ©
park ornamented with four large gates of Moorish design,
and a burial-ground full of interesting monuments. But —
everything is going to rack and ruin. Civil war and family ©
feuds have left their marks on all; even in the late war the —
city was taken and retaken several times, and the property of —
each party was alternately plundered by the opposite faction. _
When Hermosillo was first taken by the Imperialist party, ]
some cannon had just been forged at the mint by means of |
native coal obtained at the Bronces Mine on the Upper Yaqui. —
These field-pieces, four in number, were exhibited at the —
Paris Exhibition. The city remained in the hands of the —
Imperialists until the spring previous to my visit, when two —
thousand so-called Liberals appeared before the place early |
in the morning of the 5th of May. |
A hard fight took place between the little garrison and the j
assailants ; no quarter was given, and all the defenders were ;
at last overpowered and slain. Then the rabble crew com- 1
menced robbing and plundering all through the town. Not 1
an inhabitant was to be seen in the streets; every shop |
was closed except those which had been broken open, and 4
were being sacked by the rabble. By eleven o’clock in the 4
forenoon the Liberals had laden themselves with spoil, feasted 7
and drunk until many of them were placed hopelessly hors de 4
combat from liquor, when, suddenly, the cry came from the —
OPITA ATTACK, 125
east that five hundred Opita Indians, under their brave chief
Tonera, were already within sight of the town. This tribe,
accustomed to take an active part in politics, had long adopted
the Spanish or Mexican mode of life, and when Maximilian
was made emperor, they joined his party, and fought to —
the last in defence of the Imperialists. Out rushed the
Liberals from the cellars, the larders, the storehouses, and
the mansions they had been rifling, weighed down with
plunder, and half drunk with mescal spirit. They ran
through the streets, and met their foe upon the rugged side
of the mountains, in full view of the citizens, each party
hoping to gain there a commanding position for attack or
defence. The Indians came on fiercely, though steadily,
divided into two columns, taking advantage of every rock, or
_ tree, or undulation of the rugged ground, and pouring volley
after volley of well-aimed arrows against the two thousand
men, who, huddled together without organisation, could not
- withstand the attack. The tide was soon turned, and back
again rushed the Liberals, for a third time, through the
_ Streets, throwing away their ill-gotten booty in their flight,
and closely followed by the exultant Indians, who, with
_ shouts and yellings, speared and drove them from every nook |
_ and alley where they had taken temporary shelter.
By sunset quiet again reigned over the town. The Opitas
had been completely victorious. They did not kill the
wounded, nor plunder the houses and shops ; they brought
confidence to the inhabitants, and soon the town was thronged
with men and women in holiday attire who came out from
their hiding-places into the streets, feeling safe and secure
under the protection of the Indians. e
Dr. Duroin, the resident Amertcan physician, assured me
that not an act of violence was perpetrated to his know-
126 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
ledge, and not an article of value was stolen by them from |
any one. When the Imperialist cause was entirely lost, the
Opitas. returned to their own lands, and left the turn of
events to take its course.
The present state of Sonora is almost as deplorable as can
be conceived. Before the war, a number of powerful families
contended amongst each other for the spoils of office. In a
territory so remote, whatever faction gained the State
governorship obtained almost absolute power to crush and
ruin those who had opposed them. :
The people—humble, indolent, and averse, above all things, —
to the hardships and dangers of war—were made by force to
fight the battles of their masters. Ground down to the dust, —
these peons are still in the most abject state of almost feudal
bondage ; their rights are unrecognised, they are never men-
tioned except as slaves, they can vote only as their masters
direct, and they dare hardly call their lives their own.
Before the war Pesquera’s party had for some years been all-
powerful, and he had been governor during three successive -
terms of two years. During the Imperial ascendency he fled”
to the States, and there became a shrewder and more far-
seeing statesman ; so that on his return he had no difficulty im 7
’ regaining his power and greatly strengthening his position. |
He banished his enemies as Imperialists, pardoned those”
whom he thought might serve his interests, and snapped his”
fingers at Juarez or any other man who should attempt to
interfere with him in Sonora. One-third of the leading
families are still in exile.
A feeble remonstrance was made, by the representatives |
chosen by universal suffrage, about his extravagance.
Whereupon he met his ministers, and told them that he
also thought the expenditure too great, and therefore should
GOVERNOR PESQUERA. 127
commence retrenchment by dispensing for the future with
_ their assistance, and thus saving the salaries of a number of
useless functionaries. The port of Guaymas is one of the
chief sources of revenue. The customs duties levied at the
- Mexican ports along the Pacific coast average 100 per cent. on
all manufactured goods, and the moneys thus received belong
_ exclusively to the Central Government. This, however, was
i a es | eal
never allowed by the Governor of Sonora, who always kept
the money, and by lessening the duties from 100 to 60 per
cent., induced many merchantmen bound for Mazatlan to enter
Guaymas instead, so that it has become customary for a vessel
_ to wait outside these ports until a good bargain has been
struck relative to the amount of duty to be paid on the cargo.
A few months before my arrival, President Juarez thought
he would stop the misappropriation of his lawful revenue,
and sent one of his own men, Signor Almuda, as collector
of customs at Guaymas. Pesquera said nothing, but when
30,000 or 40,000 dollars had been collected, he suddenly
appeared with a small troop of soldiers and demanded it; on
being refused, out went Almuda from office, and another
man was placed in his stead. The money was taken, and
Almuda, finding resistance hopeless, returned after three
days to his former position as collector of customs, but this:
time as servant of Pesquera, not of President Juarez. This
little transaction occurred but three weeks before I met the
Governor at Hermosillo, when, fearing that his extremely
independent action might be interfered with, he thought it
necessary to increase the State army. This was done by
spreading the report of a Yaqui war. These Indians, it was
noised abroad, had rebelled; “the whole Yaqui country was
in an uproar!” “all travel was .stopped!” “ the Mexicans
were being brutally massacred!” “to arms! to arms! 1”
128 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
These were the cries. I was on my way to the Yaqui —
country, to examine the coal-fields there, and these reports
effectually stopped my progress southward by land. |
This is the way volunteering was carried on at Hermosillo. —
In the evening the military band usually played either in the —
plaza or opposite some gentleman’s house. One evening, —
whilst listening to it from a window, and watching the men ~
and women going to and fro, I suddenly perceived that |
soldiers had taken possession of all the approaches leading to |
the band, and were encircling the crowd on all sides. They |
seized all the young men who were present, and carried them |
off to the Government coralle, where they passed the night,
and where next morning they had either to pay a fine if they |
possessed any money, or to volunteer if they did not. |
Then there came a proclamation that fire-arms were |
required, and that five dollars would be given for any ©
weapon that would shoot; but if this proclamation failed,
and the police had to come and fetch them, no money would —
be paid. Thus the unfortunate people were stripped of |
their arms, while robbers infested the country, and Apaches
made raids upon them, almost to the gates of Hermosillo. —
Ifow crest-fallen and dejected these volunteers looked —
as they marched through the streets, armed with old flint-
locks, broadswords, or any other weapon they could obtain !
Their pay was a mere farce, for after years of service —
they would, on dismissal, receive a draft for the sums
due to them, to be cashed when the treasury had been re-
plenished—which meant, never. As this kidnapping of young —
men for the army has been going on year after year, it has
produced so great an inequality of sexes amongst the Mexican
population that in Hermosillo there are seven females for
_ eyery one male.
THE INDIANS OF SONORA. 129
The Yaqui war was of course a myth. These industrious
labourers at first took flight, not knowing what to make of it ;
- but after a time, as nothing dreadful happened to them, they
- returned to their usual occupation.
A few words are due to the Indians of this State, for they have
the reputation of being the quietest and most frugal in the
| whole of Mexico. The Yaquis are the hewers of wood and
drawers of water; their homes are in the South, but they are to
be found everywhere. In appearance they are not unlike the
| Papagos ; but are not so well off—judging by those whom I met
doing most of the labour at Hermosillo and elsewhere. They
are of a rich copper colour, with long black hair and rather large
‘ noses; they go about almost naked, with only a small piece of
} linen about their loins; they are very active and trustworthy, -
| and obey every order they receive from the Mexicans in the
} most subservient way. A Mexican sigforetta will not even
} take a parcel home from the shop where she has just bought
{ it, but the first Yaqui that passes will run off with it without
} aword. I have seen this a hundred times. It is considered
, degrading to intermarry with the Yaquis.
| The next tribe are the Opitas, of whom I have said enough ;
| they will not work for hire, and stand on perfect equality
| with the Mexican population—excepting of course the chief
| families, which are the curse of this unfortunate country. —
|| Lastly, there are the Papagos, who hold themselves cee
| apart, have their own Government, and do not mix in politics,
and only come in contact with the Mexicans for purposes of
de.
Besides these three semi-civilised tribes—the Aztecs of
Sonora—there area few wild Indians along the coast, but these
are dying out like their brethren further north, and have
already ceased to be troublesome.
VOL. II. K
130 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
None of the Apache hordes who have succeeded in de- |
populating Northern Sonora live in that State; their country
lies quite to the northward, in United States’ territory.
With regard to population, Colton places Sonora in his new
map of Mexico at 147,133 souls, which is simply absurd. A
Mexican estimate, formed by itn up the population of ,
- each town, and then allowing a fair approximation for the |
rest, places it at 85,664, in 1845. An American estimate, .
founded on the Mexican one, considers 100,000 to be very
near the truth for 1861. But this authority includes 20,000 !
Papago Indians, whereas there fre certainly not more than |
3,000 south of the boundary-line. This reduces the estimate |
to 83,000. Since 1861, both Mexicans and Indians have
been decreasing ; the mines haye been more and more de- |
serted, and yet the population in the towns has not :
increased; on the contrary, they also have been losing |
numbers. Hermosillo, in 1840, contained 11,655 Mexicans, |
and 2,000 Yaqui Indians; in 1843, about 14,000, all told; |
and to-day the population is generally placed at 9,000 |
Mexicans, and 1,500 Yaquis. As I before remarked, every
third house was unoccupied, and more or less in ruins. I}
might add, also, a long list of frontier settlements, none of |
which contain any inhabitants; and, in fact, I think that at
the present time only 70,000 seals can be allowed to Sonora, »
including the Indian population. |
Comparing this with the neighbouring States, we have —
Population. —_gquare Miles.
Sono 70,000 11,953
Chihuahua 164,000 15,534
ngo 156,519 6,291
Sinaloa 160,0 3,825
Sinaloa is the most “ae and its port, Mazatlan, is the : |
most thriving town on the Pacific coast of Mexico. Chihuahua |
ANNEXATION. 131
has of late been fast declining in wealth, if not in population ;
_ but not to the same extent as Sonora, because she has had
far less to contend against, both as regards hostile Indians
| and civil wars. It is easy, therefore, to understand how it is
that the old Santa Fé trade has almost ceased to exist; and
until a great change takes place in these productive provinces
| of Northern Mexico, there is little chance that commerce will
again return to its ancient channels, and that there will be
any permanent market for merchandise. .
As things cannot be worse than they are, many think that
they see in this utter state of prostration and national degra-
dation the germs of a better future. Any change, they say,
' must be for the better, and they look to the prosperous States
beyond the frontier to take Sonora and her sisters under their
_ protection, and, so to speak, to give them a chance. I did
not expect to hear this sentiment so freely and openly
' expressed by the Mexicans themselves; much as they were
suffering, I supposed, until I came into their country, that
the great jealousy they were considered to feel towards
| foreigners would make such an ultimatum decidedly unpopular,
but I soon found reason to alter this opinion. They seemed
to me to look upon annexation to the United States as their
destiny, and one to be hoped for with as little delay as
_ possible.
| In speaking as I have done of the present Governor, I do
-} not complain of him as a man. On the contrary, I consider
} him far above the average of Mexican governors, and I feel
}conyinced that, as unity amongst the Mexican States is
already merely fictitious, he will be willing to favour annexa-
} tion, provided he thereby secures solid advantages for himself.
¥ That section of the governing class which now forms the
s} party of power, would, no doubt, follow the same course ; but
| K2
132 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
of the State, would disparage a union at the present time,
simply because they could not themselves claim compensation. |
Thus there will probably always be, until annexation becomes |
an established fact, a strong party opposed to it from selfish |
motives alone, and that party will always consist of the future |
those opposed to him, although believing in the ultimate fate
aspirants to office. National unity has already been destroyed,
and the few patriots whom I have met are only too anxious to ,
swear allegiance to a real republic, instead of a sham, and to |
renounce for ever that system of despotism and tyranny, that ¢
degradation of the many for the aggrandisement of the few, |
that corruption in office and disregard to law, which now |
disgrace one of the finest regions on the globe.
CHAPTER IX.
THE GULF OF CALIFORNIA.
From Hermosillo to Guaymas.—The Harbour.--The Town.—Tradé.—Leave
Sonora.—Carmen Island.—Salt Basin.—Oysters and our Oyster-man.—
Pearls and a Pearl Merchant.—La Paz.—Mazatlan.—The Market.—
Shopping in Mexico.—The Army.—The Harbour.—Lower California.—
F Arrive at San Francisco.
| Arrer remaining nearly a fortnight at Hermosillo, and
making several excursions about the neighbourhood, I
Started on Thursday, the 19th of December, in a coach
drawn by six horses—four abreast and two leaders—for Guay-
, Inas, eighty-four miles distant.
We travelled due south over a plain between two moun-
tain ranges, which is usually a parched and arid desert, but
which looked anything but a desert after the recent rains.
About eighteen miles from my destination, I heard the
gun fire for the steamer’s departure, and had the pleasure of
contemplating another month’s involuntary sojourn amongst
the people of Sonora. But my usual good luck in this trip
| stood to me to the last; for, to the surprise of all, the vessel
| was still in the harbour when we arrived, and did not sail
| until the next morning.
| The true harbour of Guaymas covers an area of a little less
| than four square miles, in which space three small islands,
the rocky peaks of sub-marine hills, rise perpendicularly from
a depth of from three to four fathoms, and form a little inner
} harbour. From the bare volcanic mountains which enclose
the harbour, several irregular little promontories project into
the water and occupy much valuable space. The total area,
in fact, of water more than four fathoms in depth does not
exceed one-half a square mile. The entrance is not quite a
mile wide, and is guarded by a long rock island, called
Pajaros, lying exactly in front of and outside it, which makes
the harbour doubly secure. The main channel runs to the
left of the rock. On entering, its course is at first north-east
as it passes the rock, and then north-west as it enters the |
harbour. To the right, another passage leads to a larger, :
though shallower, basin, into which a small river discharges
its débris. The depth of the channel is. five fathoms until |
the rock islands within the harbour are reached, when it 's |
reduced to four and three. Three fathoms can be obtained in |
:
:
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134 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
the centre of the inner harbour between the rock islands and
the town; but it is only close to the former that four fathoms
can be found. .
The accompanying diagram of the three harbours, San
Francisco, San Diego, and Guaymas, all drawn to the same
scale, shows at a glance the relative capacity of each. There — :
is no question as to the value.of San Diego harbour. If is
admirably sheltered, will admit vessels drawing 223 feet of
water, is at least four times as large as Guaymas, and is, next
to San Francisco; the best harbour on the coast of California.
It is, moreover, almost 300 miles nearer to New York than
San Francisco, either by the Omaha line or that of the 35th
parallel, and can be easily reached from the latter trunk line by —
a branch 211 miles long, which would traverse the most —
fertile portion of Southern California.
The results I arrived at from my reconnoissance through
Sonora to Guaymas do not confirm the glowing accounts
which have been circulated relative to the harbour of the |
POLES SPORTS Reet eco eee UP ee eee Sopa eee Site fe TET PEERS tye
‘BAN ar SAN FRANCTSCO
+e
t,
SAN DIEGO GUAYMAS
THE HARBOUR OF GUAYMAS. 135
latter. It is too small ever to become a commodious first-
class port; its situation is bad, for it is too far up the Gulf
of California (being 1,500 miles from San Francisco and 1,000
from San Diego), whilst a railroad to it from the North would
leave the richest portion of Sonora untouched. As regards
distance, supposing that the main Southern line were con-
structed along the 32nd parallel, and a branch thence by the
shortest practicable route to Guaymas, it would then be
2,812 miles distant from New York, against 2,935 between
New York and San Francisco by the 35th parallel route,
the difference being but 123 miles in favour of Guaymas.
Sonora, therefore, must be developed independently by
local railways radiating from the coast inland to those
sections of country which, on their own merits, are deserving
of them.
The present trade of Guaymas is such that the three
merchantmen which unloaded there during 1867 supplied
more goods than the demand required. In Hermosillo, as
well as Guaymas, all the store-houses of the merchants were
glutted with goods, and the general complaint was that there
were no buyers. Large quantities of Sonora wheat and flour
used to be shipped from this port to San Francisco, San
Pedro, Mazatlan, and other places along the coast. Now,
none goes anywhere, except to the last-named port, and not
very much there, since the monthly steamer has been pro-
hibited from carrying it. Mazatlan has at least six times
the trade of Guaymas, because the back country is well
peopled, whereas Northern Sonora is almost uninhabited.
Comfortably packed away on board the John L. Stevens,
one of the fine Pacific steamers, which, with their roomy
berths upon deck and good ventilation, are palaces of comfort
compared with our boasted “Cunarders,” we steamed between
136 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
the rock islands in the harbour, and through the narrow
channel into the clear, calm Gulf of California.
On the third day from our departure, we stopped at
Carmen Island, close to the opposite shore (the coast of the
Lower Californian peninsula), to take on board a cargo of |
salt and oysters. We were immediately surrounded by
lighters, full of Yaqui Indians who labour on the Salt Lake,
and I went ashore in one of them.
Carmen Island is worth a visit. It was purchased from
President Juarez, during the Mexican war, by an American
land company, which also bought nearly the whole peninsula
at a great bargain, as it was when sold more than probable
that Maximilian would have gained the day. Of this huge
estate, the island we had just reached is the richest prize.
Close to the shore, but partitioned off from the sea by a
narrow strip of shingly beach over which the water never
flows, is a lake covering an area of about six square miles,
the bottom of which is composed of pure white crystals of
salt—chloride of sodium—without any admixture or adultera-
tion in the shape of sand, algee, or other salts. Usually no
water covers this area, and the salt has only to be raked up,
packed in large sacks, and shipped to San Francisco. Here it
is ground and sold, without any purification, as the’ finest
table salt.. Holes have been dug ten feet deep through pure
crystals of salt. How much deeper they extend I could not
ascertain, for the Indians only scrape as much from the
surface as they require for exportation. Fine volcanic moun-
tains form a semicircle around this lake ; and when it rains,
the drainage from them flows into the basin and covers the
entire surface to the depth of a few inches. When I visited
this spot it was covered with water; I tried to cross it,
but the salt crystals were too sharp for my bare feet. As soon
si aciaiaae
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CARMEN ISLAND. 137
as the water dries off again, all holes or irregularities of sur-
face caused by the removal of the salt become refilled with
crystals and obliterated.
; It was the opinion of the American resident superintendent
that this vast accumulation of salt was washed down by the
rains from the mountains, in which he supposed that large
quantities of disintegrated rock-salt were to be found. For,
even supposing that this was originally an estuary of the Gulf,
it is hard to account by that theory for the apparently
inexhaustible supply, and for the fresh accumulations which
still continue to form, although the sea has long since ceased
to enter the basin. The purity of the salt, the absence of
sand, and the great depth of the deposition cannot certainly be
accounted for by the laws which regulate ordinary salt basins.
Seated beside me at dinner on the second day of my life
on board ship, I found a very tall and gentlemanly Southerner.
He had all the external refinement of a man who had mixed
during a long life in the best European society, and had
looked upon a princely fortune as a matter of course. The
\ civil war had ruined him, as it had thousands like him;
and here he was now, at the age of seventy, carrying oysters
from Carmen Island to sell at San Francisco.
The San Francisco oysters very much resemble our
| natives. They are round, fat, plump, full-flavoured, and very
- good, but do not suit the taste of those who have long
~ enjoyed the luxury of the large delicate molluscs which in-
| habit the Atlantic seaboard. There are fine beds of the long-
shelled oyster in the Gulf of California ; and as they will not
grow in the Pacific Ocean, my Southern friend found that it
- paid him well to transport them 1,700 miles by steamer, and
sell them on landing at six shillings a dozen, provided that
~ not more than half the cargo had died on the passage.
138 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Unfortunately for us, this special cargo got too much sun-
ning before being deposited in the tanks. Many consequently
died, as we quickly discovered by the most disgusting smell
which took possession of the greater part of the ship. It took
many days to pick out the corpses, and in the meantime I
caught a fever ; and notwithstanding the luxury of a bridal
chamber for a oe a four-post spring-bed, and other comforts,
arrived more dead than alive at San Francisco.
From Carmen Island we went to La Paz, a beautiful little
town which nestles amongst palm trees at the extremity of an
inlet, surrounded by those bold mountains of variegated
volcanic rock so common along the coast of Lower California.”
This is the only town on the peninsula.
Outside this bay many Yaqui Indians were diving for
pearls, and, as may be imagined, we had a rich aquatic treat,
watching the finest divers in the world as they brought up
shells from eight fathoms of water. I need scarcely remark
that these are not oyster-shells, but large flat bivalves of quite
another family. The best pearls are contained in the body
of the mollusc, unattached to the shell, and a common way
of extracting them is to throw thousands of these soft lumps
* Until 1867, the physical geography of this peninsula was Ss e unknown
but in this year Mr. J. Ross Browne, accompanied by Mr. William M. Gabb of
the Geological Survey of California, Dr. Von Lohr of the School of Mines,
Freiburg, and a corps of assistants, made a scientific reconnoisance throughout
its whole length. A full account of their researches will be found in Mr. oss
Browne’s Official Report on the Mineral Resources of the United States for 1868,
p- 630. A correct map of the © recrvetin was for the first time compiled from
slice of the peninsula which now belongs to an American land company has
been represented ; it comprises nearly the ich: of Lower California, exclusive
of the La Paz district.
Magdalena Bay was found to be a magnificent harbour, but fresh water was
searce, and the land arid, from deficient rain-fall.
article referred to is a valuable contribution to our geographical know-
ledge, and well worth reading.
PEARLS. 139
of flesh into a barrel, and allow them to decompose. The
pearls, if there be any, are found at the bottom.
A pearl merchant, Mr. Peterson, here joined us, and after
we had become well acquainted he showed me, in strict
privacy, his autumn store. He was an old Norwegian sea
captain on half-pay, and took very good care that none but
those he could thoroughly trust should even suspect the
nature of his precious cargo. The pearls were of all sizes,
colours, and degrees of delicacy. The dark, metallic variety
—which to my taste is so beautiful—was, if anything, the
most abundant; many of the white ones were very large, and
some Mr. Peterson had succeeded in matching to perfection
for earrings, by which means the value of each pair was
greatly enhanced.
Leaving La Paz, we crossed the Gulf to Mazatlan, our last
stopping-place in Mexico. Here we found two ships of war,
one English, the other American, the former was just leaving,
with 300,000 dollars of silver on board, the produce of the
mines in Sinaloa. Although my illness was beginning to
take firm hold upon me, I dragged myself ashore at four
o’clock in the morning to attend the market, and was well
repaid for my trouble by the busy scene of animation I found
there. A motley crowd of Yaquis, Negroes, Mexicans, and
Chinese had filled a large, square market-place to overflowing
with every kind of indigenous merchandise and produce, con-
spicuous amongst which were the fishes and fruits.
A country must be worth something which can produce
such a market as this; no town in any part of Europe could
have been better supplied.. I bought as large a string of
bananas as I could carry for a real (one shilling), filled my
pockets with oranges, and beat a hasty retreat, for the noise
was something frightful. All screamed at once in their
140 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
different languages, and seemed to consider that the more
noise they made the more certain they were to sell their
commodities.
From the market I visited the principal street, and one
glance at the large shops and mercantile establishments
showed the nature of business here. Many of the counters
were polished mahogany, the windows plate-glass, the goods
mostly of English manufacture. Here, as in the other silver-
producing States, merchants of capital were absorbing the
precious metal, and sending it out of the country almost as
rapidly as it was taken from the ground. I watched the
handfuls of large silver dollars rattle on the counters, and saw
how very little the people could buy for their money. A
common shirt, for instance, costs at wholesale prices about.
three shillings; on entering Mazatlan the import duties
double it, the merchant adds another three shillings as legiti-
mate profit, and, including a penny or two for carriage, it
is retailed at two and a half dollars in coin. All this
comes out of the pockets of the people, and if mining is pros-
perous, the traders make enormous fortunes, and can well
afford to build the splendid establishments which contrast s0
strongly with the poverty and degradation seen on all sides.
I next went to the plaza. The clocks were striking eight,
and the troops were being inspected. In this little place of
11,000 inhabitants, 2,000 soldiers were being maintained ;
there were more men drilling in the plaza than could be
found otherwise engaged throughout the town. The appear-
ance of these soldiers was a perfect burlesque ; they wore
straw hats with green ribbon, but here all distinction of
uniform ended; one had a broadsword, another a flint-lock
musket, a third a French rifle, a fourth nothing but a club,
and all were clothed in coarse cotton cloth, called manta. It
a
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“MAZATLAN, 141
was the old story; one of Juarez’s generals was expected,
and the present Governor of Sinaloa thought it desirable to be
prepared. The General did appear some days afterwards, and
both ‘‘ armies” met, and compared their respective strength ;
but as the local force proved to be in the majority, Juarez’s
C=
Mazatlan.
men prudently returned to head-quarters, and the war was
thus brought to a close without bloodshed.
The accompanying woodcut gives an accurate glimpse of
Mazatlan, and will more than answer the purpose of a
description. The long building at the head of the inlet is the
custom-house ; beyond the hills at the back lies the Pacific
142 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Ocean, and the water seen about the centre is a shallow part
_ of the harbour, which has to be crossed in boats. The harbour
of Mazatlan is not a very good one, for it is exposed to the
south-west gales in one part, and to the north-west in another,
so that it depends much upon the prevalent winds what
position is the best for anchorage.
I left Mexico with considerable regret, for another month
might have been well spent in travelling through different
parts of Sonora, in visiting the coal-fields on the Upper Yaqui,
and in examining the silver mines of Alamos.
The greatest source of wealth possessed by Sonora is
undoubtedly her mines. I visited many of them, although
I did not reach Alamos; and shall therefore conclude this
account of my trip by fairly stating as much of the reliable
information I then collected as I think is of sufficient general
interest.
|
Me | Seong
as Lo enna eee ee Ra!
CHAPTER X.
THE NATURAL RESOURCES OF SONORA.
Agriculture :—Extent of Cultivatable Land.—Agriculture on the ‘as: San
eat io, San Miguel, Sonora, Yaqui, Mayo, and Fuerte Rivers. Crops :-—
eans, &c., Cotton, Tobacco, Sugar-cane, Mulberry, Indigo,
Edible " Cactus Plants, Agave Americana, &e.—Stock-raising : Sonora
a fine Grazing Country.—The Grasses.—The Shrubs.—The mens fall.—
Stock-raising ‘under Spanish Rule.—The Formation of Tanks.—Mining :—
Wide-spread Distribution of the Mineral Wealth. —The Diestite Metals.
eee ES
AGRICULTURE.
THE amount of land susceptible of cultivation in Sonora
bears a very small proportion indeed to that of the whole
country. In the first place, long ranges of mountains cover
vast districts ; in the second, the valleys through which the
rivers flow until they near the sea-coast are very narrow,
and contain little bottom-land; and thirdly, where the
valleys do open out towards the coast, they are rendered
barren and unproductive by the sinking of the rivers, which
thus deprives them of the means by which they might be
irrigated.
For instance: of the rivers which drain Northern Sonora,
the first irrigating dam on the Altar River is situated thirty-
three miles above Altar. From this point the stream is a
‘permanent one down to Los Puertecitos in ordinary years,
144 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA,
thirty miles below Altar; but the average width of the.
valley for this distance (sixty-three miles) scarcely exceeds
three-fourths of a mile. On the San Ignacio River, villages
are found all along its banks wherever sufficient water exists
for irrigation; but so scant is the supply that as far from the
mouth as Santa Anna the river bed is usually, except after
rains, a broad sandy arroyo, all the water having been
diverted and absorbed by the acequias belonging to the settle-
ments higher up the stream, viz., Santa Magdalena, San Lorenzo,
and Santa Marta. These villages, including San Ignacio,
form an agricultural district which produces many thousand
fanegas* of cereals, and supplies six flour-mills upon the
river. Even the San Miguel River does not supply nearly
enough water to irrigate the narrow bottom-lands which lie
on either side of it. The three flourishing haciendas of
Torreon, Labor, and Inigo, as they are worked at present,
absorb nearly all the water between San Miguel and
Hermosillo, a distance of thirty miles; and, south of the
latter town, a dry useless valley widens out indefinitely
towards the sea. There is much cultivation on the San
Miguel north of the village of that name, and also on the
Rio Sonora above Ures, where a considerable population can
be well supported. These narrow valleys have supplied
nearly all the food consumed by the mining as well as the
agricultural population of Northern Sonora, and have, during
many years of civil war, notwithstanding the ravages of the
Apaches, exported a considerable surplus of wheat and beans
beyond the boundary into United States’ territory, where
Sonora wheat is a staple commodity.
The Yaqui, Mayo, and Fuerte rivers alone—rising in the
lofty ranges and plateaux of the Sierra Madre, and not, as do
* 1 fanega (410 Ibs.) = about two bushels.
— eS
TWO CROPS RAISED PER ANNUM. 145
the others along the divide which limits the Gila basin—
; carry down to the low lands along the coast an abundant
supply of water, enough in fact, to irrigate all the low-
lying districts situated between them, and representing not
less than 2,500 square miles. It is this section of country,
together with the special produce it is capable of yielding,
which makes the agricultural resources of Sonora, in my
opinion, of very great importance.
On all lands susceptible of irrigation two crops of cereals
can, without difficulty, be raised in the year : a crop of wheat
and one of maize, or wheat and beans, or even wheat and
barley. The wheat is sown from November to January, and
reaped in April—never later than May. The land is then
given two months’ rest. Maize is sown at the commencement
of the rainy season—that is, about the Ist of J auly—and
is harvested in November. The bean-crop may be sown even
later than the maize, and the barley about the same time.
The Australian wheat has been introduced with great success,
for it ripens a month in advance of the ordinary kinds, and
is not only out of danger before the season for smutting
comes on (just before the summer rains), but a considerable
time is thus ensured for the ground to lie fallow before
- sowing the second crop—a very necessary requirement.
|
ii 15 Ge, wee i ea
Were Sonora, however, to become a populous country, and
to be traversed by railroads, cereals only would be raised
sufficient to supply the necessities of the miners and inland
population; for cotton, sugar, and tobacco are far more
remunerative, and thrive well all through the State.
Until the introduction of the Egyptian seed, cotton was
cultivated with but little success in Sonora, for crops from
the Mississippi seed, and other varieties, were very liable to
coma Now the Egyptian gs properly “leat being
VOL. II.
146 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
at least five weeks earlier than the American varieties, pro- |
duces a certain crop, more or less productive, every year on
land which can be irrigated at all seasons. On ‘or about the
20th of March, when the frost is considered finally to have
departed, the planter commences to sow his cotton, and what
he sows in March and early April, he begins to pick in
August. Cotton is sown even as late as July, but the season
for it being consequently a short one, a third of a crop is all
that can be expected from it before the frost, which generally
appears the first week in December and destroys the plant for
that year. It is also found by those who have cultivated
cotton in this State scientifically, that if the crop be kept
clear and free from weeds, the grasshopper will not prove to
be a very dangerous enemy; for the warmth of the cotton,
heated by the mid-day sun, is too much for the.gorged insect,
and the cooler resting-place which would be provided by the
weeds having been removed, he leaves the field. The cater-
pillar also can be to a great extent kept at bay; for if the
field be flooded as soon as this destroyer attacks the plant,
the vapour in the day, and the cold evaporation at night, will
destroy the insect, so that the planter may expect to reap a
good percentage of his crop from the fresh pods, which are
quickly reproduced after the land has been irrigated and the
caterpillar destroyed.
Tobacco is sown as early as the frost will admit in March,
and the leaves are picked during the summer and fall. I saw
on the Altar River, in a field belonging to my guide, Van
Alstine, some acres of tobacco on the 10th of December, |
1867. The plants had yielded two large pickings, and, from
the thickness of the leaf, there seemed to be one-third of a
summer picking still forthcoming. There had been no frost —
up to that time, although the altitude was great.
The sugar-cane is cultivated upon the banks of all the ~
|
SUGAR-CANE CULTURE. 147
rivers I have named, but it thrives most luxuriantly in the
Yaqui, Mayo, and Fuerte bottoms. It is sown every third,
fourth, or fifth year, in January or February, and is cut down
for sugar every year, in the winter season. The Yaqui and
Mayo country is inhabited by two closely-allied tribes of
Indians, from whom the rivers have derived their names.
They are the most industrious people in the State, and are
not by nature warlike. In every town, on every farm, and
in many of the mines, they are to be found working diligently
for hire ; but as they are particularly devoted to agriculture,
higher wages is demanded for any other employment. They
are tall and athletic, very dark in colour, with a fine
expression of countenance. Treaties are held sacred by them,
nor have they ever been known to resort to arms, unless
goaded on by the cruelty of the Spaniards or Mexicans.
Never having had any instruction in agriculture, their own
lands—the most productive in the State—are very poorly
tilled; and as the rivers are rapid, and the banks for the
most part high, irrigation has not been made use of by them
as by the Pimas on the Gila, but they have confined their
labours to the lowest strips of bottom-land which are subject
to overflow, and to stock-farming. Their horses, horned
cattle, and sheep, are reported to be far superior to any
others in the State. Such cultivation even as these Indians
have had recourse to, proves conclusively that the land is
productive in the highest degree ; and when we consider that
frost on the Yaqui is rare and unknown southward, and that
the Pacific coast is in close proximity, there is every reason
to expect that rice and coffee will grow well there—for both
flourish in Sinaloa—and that capital would rapidly develop
these regions were not property rendered by bad government
so insecure.
L 2
148 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Besides these great staples of agricultural wealth, there
are others which must not be overlooked. The mulberry
tree thrives splendidly throughout the State, and is found in
nearly every garden at Hermosillo, for the people here seem
to have conceived the idea of raising silk-worms, but to have
failed in the perseverance required to carry out the experi-
ment. When the last census of the city was taken, the
proportion of females to males was actually seven to one, and
of late years this difference has increased. Such a surplus of
female population could not be better employed than in the
production of silk.
‘The Indigo plant is indigenous to the Yaqui, and is used
by the Indians to dye their blankets with.
This is a great country for fruit—oranges, limes and
lemons, dates, bananas, plantains, figs, and grapes, all flourish
here, and are of fine quality; while the different varieties of
cactus fruits are more highly prized by the people than all
the rest, and grow on lands worthless for anything else, as _
they lie beyond the reach of irrigation. The Pitella (pro-
nounced Pitayo) and the Sahuaro are the most prized. In
the season the Indians live entirely upon them, and gain
much money by selling them about the towns. They make
a jelly and cheese of the former, and dry them both in the
sun for. winter use. The Sineta is a small variety of the
Pitella. Then there is the Tuna, the delicious fruit of the
Nopala Castiliana, which gives so much grotesque beauty to
the gardens here. From the succulent trunk of the Viznoga
an agreeable preserve is made, much used at Mexican tables.
The Mescal (Agave Americana) is another production of
importance. The rocky, mountainous regions of southern and
eastern Sonora are most suitable for its production; it grows,
like the cactus plants, on dry barren ground. From the ©
ae ae
F
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STOCK RAISING. 149
tough fibre of the leaf excellent mattresses, matting, and
ropes are extensively manufactured by the Indians, and used
everywhere throughout the State. From the root is distilled
the spirit of that name. Mescal spirit of the best quality,
matured by age, stands on perfect equality with good
whiskey, and is considered, as a spirit, to be very whole-
some. If watered by the retailer it is ruined; and if adul-
terated with the products of the sugar-cane a eds inferior
article is produced. The process of making Mescal spirit has
too often been told to allow of a description here.
STOCK-RAISING IN SONORA.
The great advantages which Sonora possesses as a stock-
raising country cannot well be exaggerated. Grama stands
first among the grasses; next comes a blue, coarse grass,
greatly relished by cattle; then follow many varieties; all
are perennials, so that in an unusually dry season they
do not altogether fail, and the stock are preserved from
starvation.
Besides the grasses, there are a great variety of shrubs and
bushes that cattle thrive well on and eat with zest. The
Mezquit and Paloferro usually yield in early autumn an abun-
dant crop of beans, which are called by the natives Pechita.
At this season all the cattle grow very fat. A species of
wild sage, which grows in many places, gives the beef a
peculiar and delicious flayour much extolled by the epicures
of the country. All these dry and nutritious forms of food
cover the inland plains everywhere, and furnish so large a
supply and variety of fodder that I doubt if any country
could feed more stock, acre for acre, than Sonora. In the
narrow valleys there grows a weed (it was just coming up
150 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
when I passed through the country in the middle of Decem-
ber), the virtues of which, I am told, are very great. If a
worn-out horse is pastured on it, his stiffened sinews soon
relax. He fattens faster than on anything else, and soon
acquires a new lease of life and activity. I met some
Americans who were in the habit of buying broken-down
horses in the States, and taking them down to Sonora to
regenerate them.
The climate is all that can be desired; frosts, in winter,
occur over the greater part of the State—a very necessary
tonic for the health of the stock. Enough rain falls during
the year to replenish the tanks of the stock ranches. The
winters are never so severe as to require stall-feeding, nor do
the occasional falls of snow lie long on the ground. The food
changes with the seasons, and there is always an abundance.
No diseases of any kind are known to prevail among the stock
north of the line of frost, but farther south, on the rich lands
of the Yaqui and Mayo country, periodical epidemics, similar
to those of southern Texas, sometimes attack the high-fed
cattle. While horses, horned cattle, and goats thrive well on
the plateaux, fine wool-bearing sheep will prove remunerative
in the mountain regions only, because the heat of the mid-day _
sun has been found to thin the fleece.*
Many districts were once famous for the enormous quantity
of stock raised by the rancheros. Amongst these were San
Pedro, San Bernardino, and Bucuachi, in the north-east;
Altar and the country north of it; Norea, Cruces, and La
Posa, north of Hermosillo; and many other places where not
a head of cattle is now to be seen. It was pitiable to ride,
day after day, for many hundred miles through magnificent
* Sheep-farmers of South Australia may think the last remark an error.
Some varieties may be able to stand the heat without injury to the fleece.
l(t
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MINERAL WEALTH. 151
' grazing-lands, covered as far as the eye could reach with
OOO, CO ee
thick, short, delicate grasses, so sweet and nutritious, and
never to see even the hoof-print of any kind of stock. The
whole of northern Sonora may truly be said at the present
time to be completely swept of cattle. What the Apaches ~
left were taken to supply the contending armies. With the
cattle went the people, driven by fear into the towns and
larger villages; so that now the ranches are deserted, the
orange-groves grow wild, and the few stray cattle which now
and then flee at the approach of the traveller have long lost
their masters. So depopulated are these vast grazing regions
that even the Apaches have ceased to visit them, for there
is no plunder to take, no animals to drive away.
Under the protection of a strong government what a para-
dise this country would be to the stock-farmer ! Not obliged to
roam about in search of fresh grass and water, he can choose
a suitable place for his stock-ranche, and dig his tank in a
hollow to which drainage sufficient could be directed to fill it ;
no covering being necessary for the stock, he can confidently
rely upon the variety of pasturage, and the succession of
natural crops to keep his cattle always well supplied with
food.
Tue Mrnerat Resources oF SONORA.
Almost the whole of this State is remarkable for the wide-
spread distribution of its mineral wealth. There is scarcely
a hill that does not show signs of gold, silver, or copper ores
—scarcely a brook that will not yield to the miner the colour
of gold. But how large an extent of country, or how many
localities are likely to prove sufficiently rich in minerals to
pay, is a question impossible at present satisfactorily to
answer.
152 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
The general character of the veins about the boundary line
and in northern Sonora is, that they are narrow, often very
rich, generally very numerous, but capricious—giving out, or
changing their direction so continually, that the miner can
“never feel certain of his prospects beyond what he actually
sees as day by day he develops his mine. There are some
exceptions to this, such as the large masses of mineral giving
a low percentage of precious metal which are situated about
the head-waters of the Rio Santa Cruz, forming what is called
the Santa Cruz mining district. To develop this region,
many mines were opened, called the French, the Empire,
Boundary, Patagonia, &c. The ores yielded but thirty dollars
of silver per ton. They were so easily reduced (being argen-
tiferous galena), that mining prospered here until the troops
were withdrawn at the breaking out of the American civil
war, and the region was left to the mercy of the Apaches,
who nearly succeeded in massacring those who were working
the Patagonian Mine, drove off the stock, and made mining
for a time impossible. Much fine machinery now remains
idle ; for up to the present time the miners have not resumed
work,
A second district (the Cababi), situated about sixty miles
west of St. Xavier del Bac, has now about six mines being -
worked upon it. The ore is the black sulphuret of silver,
and yields an average, including first, second and third
grades, of 100 dollars per ton.
A third district is called the Tucson district: it occupies
the mountains immediately to the west of that: town. The
ores are very rich ; but the veins are thin and capricious.
In the Santa Rita Mountains there is a fourth district of
the same name (Santa Rita). Silver mines were opened
here; but since the manager, Mr. W. Wrighton, was killed
|
HISTORY OF MINING UNDER THE SPANTARDS. 153 |
by the Apaches, all work has ceased. The largest enterprise
was that which led to the opening of the Colorado Mine, and
caused the erection of the twenty-stamp mill and other
machinery now standing at Enviguetta, which I have already
mentioned. Mismanagement and extravagance brought this
company to ruin.
The above districts are all in United States’ territory.
They represent the first abortive attempt at silver mining
in the south, and tend to show that the natural disadvantages
peculiar to these regions are at present almost too great to be
overcome. Labour and provisions are high, the expense of
transporting and putting up machinery is enormous, water
is scarce; but for all that the silver is there, and will
eventually be got at.
In forming a true conclusion as to the value of the mineral
resources of Sonora, the history of its mining operations is a
very necessary part of the evidence. Sonora and Sinaloa,
under Spanish rule, were one State, and had their base of
supplies, not at Guaymas, Agiavanpo, or any harbour on the
Pacific coast, but at Vera Cruz. From this far-distant port,
all the supplies sent from Old Spain to the settlers—every-
thing, in fact, that they required—had to be packed on mules,
- a distance of 2,000 miles, first to the city of Mexico, thence
along the great military road to Chihuahua, across the Sierra
Madre vid Concepcion, to Arispe, the then capital of Sonora,
where the troops were paid, and from which point supplies
were distributed to the military posts and missions scattered
all over the country. But notwithstanding the remoteness of
the province from its base of supply, the Spaniards during
nearly a hundred years of peace, and under the protection of
a strong military government, carried on their mining and
agricultural operations most vigorously, discovered most of
154 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
the large rich veins throughout the country, and worked
them to a very considerable extent.
The government exacted from the miner five per cent. of
the gross produce of his mine; and gave him military protec-
tion in return. But the Spaniard, although the Indian popu-
tion afforded him abundance of labour to work the mines, had
neither machinery to use when the water-level had been
reached, nor the knowledge necessary for reducing the rich
sulphurets which he was pretty sure to encounter at that
point.
The system of reduction known as the “patio” worked
well in the reduction of the free ores which had been
oxidised above the water-level; but other systems of reduc-
tion being there unknown, the mine was generally abandoned
when the water-level had been reached. Even the necessity
of abandoning the mine before it was half worked out
naturally led to the discovery of a greater number of veins
and a more thorough investigation of the mineral resources of
the district; and thus the whole country was thoroughly
prospected. No capital was used to develop the mine, no
tunnel was bored to drain it; but still, with the croppings
alone to represent the capital, and the Indian slaves, the
labour and machinery, the production was far greater than
it has ever been since, or probably will be for many years to
come. This was the state of the mining interest up to 1827,
when all the energy, ability, and capacity for organization
was suddenly withdrawn from the country when the
Spaniards were banished by the new-born Mexican Republic.
When the mushroom creole aristocracy sought in the
mines for the wealth which had made their Spanish masters’
so enviable, knowing nothing in most cases of mining, they
left the management of it to others, squandered the proceeds
EXPULSION OF THE SPANIARDS. 155
when the vein was productive, and reserved nothing for the
future when unremunerative work should become necessary ;
and thus many fine mines were abandoned when a small
expenditure would have again made them profitable.
Besides the indolence, extravagance, and ignorance of the
new owners, a second blow fell heavily upon the mining
interest—the withdrawal of troops from the frontier pro-
vinces to take part in the intestine strifes nearer the centre.
The Opitas rebelled and caused much damage to the mining
districts of the north-east; the Apaches discovered how
things were, and poured down from the north in larger hordes
than ever.
The third adverse influence was the work of the Gam-
bosinos. Under the mining laws of New Spain, the miner
was obliged to support his mine by leaving a sufficient
number of pillars (formed of ore not removed) to ensure its
safety ; but under the Republic no laws could be enforced,
and when the mines became abandoned, they immediately
fell a prey to the Gambosinos (men who worked in companies,
but each for himself), and as the pillars came first to hand,
and yielded immediate returns, they were removed, and, in
consequence, down came the walls, burying beyond reach the
unexhausted treasures of the mine itself. Thus it is that
most of the old mines of this State, the best and most
productive, having enriched their original owners and being
still unexhausted, are now mostly buried under their own
ruins. Notwithstanding this, the general opinion amongst
those who are capable of forming one is, that the path which
leads to the most important mineral deposits is sure to be
found by following, to a great extent, the footsteps of the
Spanish miners. They found the best veins, and would have
increased the production of silver year by year, had they not
156 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
been driven away, leaving for others mines which are only
half developed, and which contain their precious metals in
the best possible form, now that we know how to manipulate
them—I mean as sulphurets. But to get at these it is
necessary that capital should be expended which cannot
at the outset be remunerative, for a tunnel to drain an old
mine cannot be bored in a day, much less can the débris be
cheaply removed. When Sonora becomes Anglo-Saxon there
will be some hope for the future—until then, there is none.
The following are the chief districts in which silver mining
has been or is still carried on.
Alamos, in the &
i iges: hetwoon Rios Yaqui and Mayo.
Cedras.
ana, near Los
Sant:
San Marcil, on the Rio San Josée.,
noash
Los Bro:
San ‘Antonio de la Huerta.
La Barronca.
San Juan de Sonora.
. Babicamora,
1. Banawachi, } in north-eastern Sonora.
Upper Yaqui.
— i
SS SO sy Oo ye Se be
a
SOMA oh w bo
. Nacasari,
. Zubiate, forty miles south-west of Hermosillo.
Aqu rinse (Minos Prietos).
. Alam
: Fai: ara Altar.
. La Cieneguita,
Mulatos, between Saguaripe and Jesus Maria, in the
Sierra Madre.
. Soyopa, Rio Yaqui.
A room
Carrigo
bo bo bo
one
; doe aa Rio Chico.
- Relitos.
6. Tecoripa, a miles west of San Antonio.
27. voter
U:
bo
Soe
head-waters of Rio Fuerte.
j
SILVER MINES. 157
bearing quartz are of course to be met with, and there are
many insignificant localities not named in the above catalogue;
for almost every ranche has some favourite mine near it, the
boundless wealth of which forms part of the belief of the
inhabitants, who, however, seldom show energy enough to put
their belief to the test.
The above districts are subject, according to their position,
either to the mint at Hermosillo, or that at Alamos, in the
southern part of the State. The average amount coined at
these establishments during the five years preceding the
Maximilian war was about 60,000 dollars per month at each
mint. During the war, that is for nearly three years, both
mints were stopped, and since that time Hermosillo has been
coining about 30,000 per month, Alamos, 60,000, with every
probability of an increase to 70,000 or 80,000 dollars in a few
-months’ time, on account of the productiveness of some mines
recently taken up in the vicinity.*
Ist. The district tributary to Hermosillo.
The Bronces and Trinidad mines, besides the Nahuila
worked with the Bronces, are owned by a Mexican, Matias
Alzua by name. The former, from January to November of
1867, furnished 83,000 dollars to the mint ; the latter, 15,500.
In both, all the rich ores were sent to Europe for reduction.
The Bronces and Nahuila supply a mill of twenty stamps,
but they could keep twenty-five stamps always employed.
The Trinidad supplies a fifteen-stamp mill, which ought to be
increased to twenty. The El Taste Mine (Tecoripa district),
worked by an American company, sent, up to November,
1867, 38,000 dollars to the mint. A ten-stamp mill is equal
* The particulars here stated were gathered from persons on the spot in
December, 1867; I have especially to thank Mr. Johnson of San Marcial, and
Mr. Simons, part owner of the mint at faa for rendering me so much
assistance in obtaining reliable mining information
158 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
at present to its requirements. There are several mines and
mills lying idle in this district, some from mismanagement,
some for want of ores. The San Marcial American Mining
Company has sent, in the last two months of the same year,
17,000 dollars from their ten-stamp mill. The Governor’s
mine at Banawachi has sent this year, up to November, 15,000
dollars from its twenty-stamp mill. In the Babicamora
district, below Arispe, a Mexican is erecting a mill, which
promises to be remunerative, as much silver was formerly
obtained here by the old patio process. At La Dura (Rio
Chico) a Mexican company is commencing work. Then La
Barronca (San Antonio de la Huerta district) produced con-
siderable silver for two years, but this has been temporarily
arrested while a tunnel is being made. At Chipionena an
American company is also commencing work. At Zubiate a
Mexican company sent 30,000 dollars to the mint in 1867, |
and expected to double that amount in 1868. The mill works
fifteen stamps. Besides Banawachi, Governor Pesquera has a
mine at Cananea (three days’ journey north of Arispe), of lead,
silver, and copper. This was a good mine, but having been
abandoned during the revolution, the Apaches burnt the steam
engine and destroyed the smelting works. Santa Theresa
and Los Ginga of Zuape are both good mines, and worked to
advantage. The yield of the above veins, taking an average
of all the ores, is about the following :—
Dollars per ton.
Bronces <2 BO
Nahuila 150
Trinidad 150
San Marcial 1
El Taste 160
Chipionena 60
Zubiate
: << 35, 173 of tte — 173 of gold.
Babicamora .. eo 68, also partly
a
> io -. Py ect
7 a
PROMONTORIA AND TIRTE VEINS. 159
2nd. The southern district, tributary to Alamos.
There is no district in the State to compare in importance
with that of Alamos. The two great veins, if they are not
the same vein, are the Promontoria and the Tirte.
The Promontoria Mine belongs to the heirs of Almuda, and
has produced many millions’ worth of silver. Before the late
war, the owners were in treaty with an English company to
sell the mine for 150,000 dollars. It was then full of water,
and could not be thoroughly examined. Since then an
American company, which bought the Tirte Mine, has, by
driving a tunnel, completely drained the Promontoria, and I
have since heard that the English company are again prepared
to bid for it. The famous old mine, the Deus Padre, is also
on the same vein, and is being reopened by an American
company. The vein upon which these mines are situated is
fourteen yards in thickness, and all metal, yielding an average
of from sixty to eighty dollars to the ton. The ore is black
sulphuret of silver. Eighteen leagues from Alamos is situated
the famous mine of Don Miguel Urrea—the Palmarejo.
This mine, by the Mexican process alone, can still produce
30,000 dollars per month, whilst one thousand ‘ barreteros”
can work at one time in the passages of its “labores.” .
Ser oS ee
ATTACKED IN A CANON, 177
carbines worth, and your soldiers with their fine uniforms and
drill? It is only the old lesson we are teaching you: our fore-
- fathers taught it to Braddock, and it has been repeated many
times since ; but we shall drive it into you deeper than ever
it has been before, ha! ha! You thought we had all gone,
but our eyes were never off you; and now we are gathering
our warriors from every hiding-place. This is the way we
call them out—whoop! whoop! whoop! and they are lining
the edge of the cafion before and behind you. You can take
your time. It is only ten miles to the mouth; and the
farther you go, the deeper the cafions get. Perhaps you wish
to retreat? It is only eight miles back, and you know what
‘sort of a path it is. From the cedars on the brink we will
“pick you off at our leisure, and you shall not see one of us.
This country belongs to us—the whole of it; and we do not
want your people here, nor your soldiers, nor your railroad.
Get away to where you belong—if you can, ha! ha!”
It was not all this in detail, but the sum and concentration
of it, that flashed through my mind as I listened to those
yells, now rising clear and wild on the breeze, and now dying
away in the distance.
- We moved close up to the foot of the wall, from the top of
which the shots came, thinking it would be too steep for
them to hit us; but the great’rocks that came rolling down
] upon us, resounding almost like heavy ordnance through the
- cafion, drove us away from that slight shelter. Here was a
new danger, and a very serious one, since there was no hope
that this kind of ammunition would give out, and the Indians
evidently knew how to use it.
“Now, officers, be quick and sharp in giving your orders !
_ Throw away precedent and drill, and come down to native
- common-sense !” “ Now, soldiers, be prompt, and jump at the
, VOL. 11. N
178 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
word of command, and don’t get disheartened! And you,
muleteers; scatter out your animals, keep them sheltered as
much as possible, and avoid all disorder. Now, everybody |
keep cool, for every man’s life hangs upon a single movement
here; and if a panic breaks out, all is lost, and the latest |
tragedy in the great Apache war, which they say has been
waging against the Spaniards and Americans for over two _
hundred years, will have been enacted!” Soon the sharp,
clear voice of the adjutant rang out from behind a huge rock -
in the channel, his carbine at a “ready,” and without moving
his eyes from the cliff—‘ Sergeant, send six men to scale that
side of the cafion !”
As they moved out, General Gregg joined them and directed _
their movement.
I gave the next order to the little escort I had brought
from New Mexico: “Sergeant Miller, station five men 0D
this side of the caiion to cover that scaling party with their
fire. Let them take shelter behind the rocks.” This was”
done, and the devoted little band began slowly to ascend —
what seemed an almost vertical wall of sandstone.
Until now, although the yells had rung all around us, the
firing was confined to the west side of the cafion, but at this
moment a very close shot was fired from the other side, and
our plans could not be carried out unless this was stopped.
Another scaling party of six men was accordingly detailed, of
which I took command, and began ascending the eastern cliff,
covered by the fire of a second small party in the cafon. |
This disposed of all our fighting force, the remainder being
required to take care of the animals. How we got up, God |
knows; I only remember hearing a volley from below, shots ©
from above, Indian yells on all sides, the grating roar of
__ tumbling boulders as they fell, and the confused echoing of |
SKIRTING THE GORGE. 179
calls and shouts from the cafion. Exhausted, out of breath,
_ and wet with perspiration, boots. nearly torn off, and hands
cut and bleeding, I sat down on the summit and looked
around. Across the narrow chasm I saw the other scaling
_ party. Hverything was as quiet as death, the Indians had
j disappeared—melting away as suddenly and mysteriously as
_ they had at first appeared. They had gone to their hidden
_lairs, cowed by our determined approach.
It had been hurriedly arranged before we ascended, that
_ the scaling parties should move on down stream at the brink
of the cafion, covering the pack-train and animals which
would march along the bed. Accordingly we moved on
towards the Rio Verde; but, in consequence of side cafions,
were compelled to keep back at least half-a-mile nearer to
the foot of the mountain than the course of the cafion.
| Six miles farther, while skirting a ridge which projected
from the mountain, the Indians from the top began yelling
again like demons, and firing at us, but the range was too
long to do any harm. They were too cowardly to attack
even our small party, and now that we were no longer
engulfed in a cafion, we laughed at their whoops. They
followed us, however, hoping to catch us in a ravine, but we
always sent three men across first to cover the rest and be
covered by them in turn.
Just as the sun was setting we recognised from a high
point the mouth of the Sycamore and the valley of the Rio
Verde. We had not been able, from the roughness of the
country, to approach the side of the cafion in which we
, supposed the rest of the party were moving, and could not,
; therefore, ascertain their whereabouts.. But at last, towards
_ dark, we descended a second time, by a deep side gorge, into
the cafion, dropping down fully 2,000 feet in the space of
nN 2
180 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
half an hour. It was just light enough when we reached the
bed of the main cafion to discover that our party had not
passed down it, and although fearful lest the Apaches should
notice our descent and again pepper us in the narrow ravine,
we turned up it to meet them.
That night’s march up the cafion, over the broken rocks
and through the tangled thickets, was worse, if anything, |
than the attack. Every pebble in the darkness was magnified
to a boulder, and every boulder seemed as large as a house ; |
fording the rapid stream twenty times, we shivered with cold
and wet when we halted for a brief rest; expecting every
moment to meet our party encamped, we yet wondered how
they would dare to stop in such a place. Finally, near mid-
night, we halted under some sheltering rocks, and concluded to
take some sleep; but the guides protested against having a fire,
saying the Indians would detect and shoot into it. To sleep
without one, however, was impossible. At last I concluded —
that it was better to die from an Indian arrow than to freeze to |
death in the darkness, and ordered a small one to be lighted, —
beside which we sat and slept and shivéred until a little ©
before day-light, when we took another smoke for breakfast
and pushed out into the darkness to continue our march up
the stream.
During the night a great rock had either become dislodged —
or had been rolled down by Indians, but it fell into the
cafion with a report like thunder. I started up and found I _
had not dreamt it. I would give something to have a
faithful picture of that little party, with the expression of 1
each as they stood or leaned, staring out into the pitch-dark :
cafion and wondering what would come next.
By day-break we had got well on our way; when we ©
_ heard shots in the rear, which we presumed to be Indians
.
CAMP AHEAD. 181
firing into our abandoned camp. We commended ourselves
for early rising and pushed on, wondering what could have
become of General Gregg’s party. Finally, the guides in-
sisted on getting out of the cafion and striking towards
Prescott, but I ordered them to keep a-head, feeling confident
that we should soon meet the party or its trail.
At last all hope seemed to be gone, and I agreed to climb
out up the western cliff. It was as much as we could do to
reach the top, and imagine our feelings on arriving there to
find that we were merely on a vertical ledge of rock, and that
immediately on the other side was the same cafion we had
_ come along an hour before. We scrambled along the narrow
_ ledge, however, faint from hunger and fatigue, having come
_ nearly twenty miles on foot, up and down cafions and steep
_ ravines, climbing through mountain passes and stumbling
_ over the rocky bed of the streams—equivalent to at least sixty
_ miles, as we thought, on a level road. We had had nothing
to eat for over twenty-four hours, and very little sleep; the
night was bitterly cold, our over-coats were left behind when
we scaled the cliff during the Indian attack, and we had
_ nothing to comfort us but a “Tucson blanket” each, which
_ Scant covering can scarcely be interpreted in genteel society.
Such was our condition when one of the party cried out,
| “ What is that smoke?” I got out my field-glass and saw
two fires, and some animals grazing contentedly on a distant
‘Ail. “That is camp, boys! Orderly, fire two shots in quick
- succession!” The shots were fired. Anxiously we listened
for the acknowledgment. It came soon—the two welcome
_ answering shots, and we strode on, with renewed heart.
Now if we had not seen camp, I could have walked as many
miles as we had already gone without giving up, but when
_ I came within two miles of camp, and felt certain of succour,
182 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
and could talk with General Gregg across a deep cajion, only ,
half-a-mile distant, my legs, somehow or other, refused to |
carry me farther, and I came to the conclusion that infantry —
service was disagreeable on an empty stomach. So I made a |
fire and laid down to sleep, and sent for rations, which my ,
faithful servant, George, brought out to me in the rain, with
a flask of whiskey from General Gregg, and strict injunctions
to be sure to drink it all—a command I promptly obeyed. I
hope the Temperance Society will forgive me, as I could 4
have drunk a demijohn under the circumstances without:
being affected by it. a
_It was by no means a short walk even from where we
were to General Gregg’s camp, as we had to head the deep”
side cafion, and to cross several others near their sources. It |
was raining, and the ground and rocks were slippery ; but at~
last we arrived and received the gratulations of the party, |
who had heard the Indian shots and shouts, and feared we
had met too many of the “noble reds.”
General Gregg had found a way out of the Sycamore
Cafion along a horrible trail, by unloading his pack mules |
and making several trips of it. He had signalled to us, but
had no means of communication, and supposed we had struck
for Camp Lincoln, a military post in the valley of the Verde :
fifty miles to the south.
My noble grey horse, Signor, is gone. He had helped to —
carry me faithfully from Santa Fé through New Mexico, and ’
thus far into Arizona, but he has fallen a martyr to the
topography of the sources of the Rio Verde. While George :
was leading him ‘up a precipitous path he lost his footing in
jumping over a rock, and tumbled to the bottom of the |
___ ¢afon, 100 feet, killing himself instantly. My other valuable —
ie horse, a whom I intend to take home if I get him safely 4
THE MORAL. 183
to the Pacific, had just scrambled over the same obstruction
without stumbling. It was nothing less than.a miracle that
nobody was hurt. These Indians are poor shots, which, with
the scarcity of guns among them, must account for our
escape. They are afraid also of our “‘heap-firmg guns” as
they call the Spencers.
A little experience of this sort, occasionally, is not without
use. It enables you to determine a number of nice problems
which otherwise might never have been solved, to say
nothing of the new phases in which it exhibits the character
of your comrades; the test of their true-heartedness, their
pluck, perseverance, and generosity. There are also some
important minor questions to which it supplies accurate
solutions. For instance, how would a man ever know
whether a smooth boulder of lava or a flat sandstone slab
would make the best pillow, until such occasions had induced
him to test the matter practically at frequent intervals during
the same night? And how could he ever ascertain the
durability of a pair of Santa Fé boots under active service,
until a trial of this kind had placed it forcibly before his
observation? And while he might hitherto have had a
theoretical appreciation of the value and excellence of a slice
of fat pork with “hard tack” for dessert, it is doubtful
hether he would ever comprehend the essential sweetness
and delicacy of these dishes until, after twenty-four hours’
sting, he had watched with a field-glass across a cafion
ntil they should start out towards him from a camp two
ules distant.
We have given the question of evading the side of San
ancisco Mountain with our railroad line a pretty thorough
stigation, and are at last compelled to give it up. First,
tried to head the Sycamore and other northern branches of
184 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
the Verde, and to cross the country on a somewhat uniform
level between 5,000 to 6,000 feet above tide, from the |
Colorado Chiquito to the Val de Chino. Second, to keep |
down the valley of the Verde itself; but the crooked cafions ‘
prevented this. Third, to keep along the foot-hills of Tonto |
Mountain overlooking the Verde from the south and west |
side. Fourth, to cross the Tonto Mountain and descend into
the Verde at Copper Cajfion, near Camp Lincoln, then to
re-ascend east of the Mogollon Range and cross it to the o
Colorado Chiquito. But the valley of the Verde is an
immense gulf, from 1,000 to 2,500 feet below the level of —
the mountains, or rather plateaux east and west on either .
side. Finally, within the last few days the profile of the cf
line crossing the Mogollon Range, south of San Francisco ,
Mountain, has pretty nearly satisfied me that there would not, ©
after all, be much to gain by a southern route, especially if 1
our line can descend to the Great Colorado in the vicinity of
Fort Mojave, instead of by the Bill Williams Fort, of which —
I have hopes. My reconnoissance has settled some important _
questions of route, concerning which we should always have —
been in doubt, and Greenwood has continued his survey
across the side of San Francisco Mountain without being
delayed a day, using all three of his parties. The grades up |
to this place are easy, and the line runs for nearly 150 miles
through a dense forest of fine tall pines, which will of them-—
selves be a great advantage to the railroad in many ways.
* * * eS.
CHAPTER. aa
CENTRAL ARIZONA.
Hinchman lost for four days.—General Features of the Country west of the
: San Francisco Peaks.—Val de Chino.—Upper Valley of the Rio Verde.—
Ruins everywhere.—Lower Valley of the Verde—Country around Pres-
cott.—Valley of the Colorado.—Mineral Wealth.—Mogollon Ranges.—
Mining Districts around Prescott.—Wickenburgh District.—La Paz Dis-
trict.—The Salt Mountains.—The Great Basin Region.—Difficulties of
the Surveyors.—Tehachapa Pass.—Mining in California.—Yield of Pre-
cious Metals. *
_ Norwirusranprve the bonfires which were kept blazing all
night above Signal Cafion, Hinchman did not return. Next
_ morning they searched for him in all directions, but in vain.
Fearing that he had fallen into the hands of the Apaches,
they redoubled their exertions, and continued the search for
three days, but still without success ; and at last Palmer had
_ to give it up and return to Prescott, persuaded that one of the
_ greatest favourites of our whole party had fallen a victim to the
cause. Hinchman, however, was intended by Providence for
_ better things than to furnish a scalp and a night’s amusement
to the red-skins. He had lost his way, and, becoming con-
_ fused in the intricacies of the cafion country, thought it best
to make his way as well as he could to Prescott, where he
_ arrived on the fourth day, thoroughly exhausted, not having
q tasted food during all that time.
q After leaving the San Francisco Mountains to the eastward,
_ the line by the 35th parallel enters a region not so well
_ watered or timbered, but equally good for grazing purposes.
“The Val de Chino, which we now enter,” says General
186 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Palmer, “is a splendid meadow, ten miles in width, lying —
between the Aztec Range and Black Mountains on the south
and west, and the Laja Range, Black Forest, and Tonto
Buttes on the east and north. It extends south-eastward |
beyond the line of Prescott, and northward to within twenty |
miles of the Grand Cafion of the Colorado. This distance
is considerably over 100 miles.
“Throughout it is covered with the finest grama grass, f
which gives the name to the valley. The soil is rich, and only 4
needs water to enable the breadstuffs of an entire State to be |
raised here. Whipple thought irrigation might no more be |
necessary here than in the Zufii valley ; but it is impossible —
to try the experiment, as the Wallapi Indians infest the |
country. |
‘The average elevation of this great valley is about 4,500
feet above tide. Tributary to it are various small but rich
mountain valleys, in some of which ranches have been started. i
Such are Pueblo and Walnut Creek, Turkey Creek, Partridge a
Creek, Round Valley, Williamson’s Valley, Granite Creek, —
&c., most of which, in the rainy season and when the snows
melt, pour down large volumes of water into the main valley. —
The Val de Chino is the proper head of the Rio Verde, along
which, north and east of Prescott, lies much rich irrigable ;
land in the open valleys between the numerous impassable _
cafions of this stream. The ‘ upper valley of the Verde,’ q |
which I visited, is about forty-five miles long, and an average |
of five miles in width. The soil is rich, water permanent —
(without alkali), and sufficient for all purposes of irrigation,
the elevation being only 3,000 to 3,900 feet above tide.
Snow is unknown; and the valley having a deep sandy soil,
is richer than the valley of the Rio Grande ; it is mixed, like _
4 the latter, with the detritus of lava deposits, and, being :
VAL DE CHINO. 187
admirably sheltered by mountain-walls on each side 1,200 to
2,400 feet high, is especially adapted to the production of
wine and fruits. Wild grapes are everywhere abundant. The
few settlers near Camp Verde informed me that they had
raised seventy-five bushels of maize to the acre, without
irrigation; also wheat and barley. All vegetables, except
_ potatoes, flourish in the greatest abundance.
_ “Tn this valley, even to a greater extent than in the valley
of the Colorado Chiquito, on the Mogollon Range, and in the
Aztec Mountains, we met constantly the broken pottery,
ruined foundations of pueblos, and abandoned caves, which
indicate the former existence of that populous, semi-civilised
race, which, for want of a better name, are called ‘ Aztecs.’
‘ Below the upper valley, but separated from it by a rugged
; and tortuous cafion, is the lower valley of the Verde, twenty
five miles long, and equally rich, and filled with Aztec ruins
and pottery. These sheltered Verde valleys are, without
doubt, well adapted for the production of cotton.
_ “There is much good arable country around Prescott also,
and at the heads of the Agua Fria and other valleys leading
southward to the Gila. Numerous ranches have been estab-
lished here, and crops are raised without irrigation.
- “We now descend gradually to the Rio Colorado, whose
valley is wide and fertile. Whipple pronounced the soil
‘superior to that of the Rio Grande valley. Of course the
climate has much more of a tropical character, the elevation
above the sea being less than 400 feet, snow being unknown,
‘and the winter sometimes passing without any frost. Both
climate and soil fit it for cotton, tobacco, hemp, castor beans,
Tice, and even sugar, to which products all the valley-land
will, perhaps, be devoted, leaving the cereals to be brought
down from the higher valleys of Arizona, or eastward from
188 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
the slopes of the Sierra Nevada and the Tulare and San j
Bernardino valleys of California. The Mormons raise a ,
great deal of cotton at their settlements. On the Virgin 4
and its tributaries, 150 miles north of Fort Mojave, they have ;
several cotton factories in operation, and are building more. 4
They also raise some sugar. |
‘‘ At present the Mojaves, Chemenevis, and other populous ~
tribes of Indians inhabiting the valley of the Colorado, raise 4
corn, wheat, beans, melons, and squashes ; and a large amount
_ of hay is cut by them for Fort Mojave and the mining stock —
near Hardyville. Wheat ripens in April; barley harvest —
takes place in May. There is as yet no artificial irrigation,
the valley being inundated annually by the river, which rises 3
seventy-five feet in summer from the melting of the snows |
at its mountain sources. We found some stalks of fine Sea
Island cotton growing here near Hardy’s Mine, about 1,000 j
feet above the river, and melons were brought in by the 4
Indians on Christmas week.
‘From the head of navigation at Callville, for sixty miles
down to Cottonwood Valley, there is no bottom-land. In~
this stretch occur Black Cafion and Painted Cafion. In
Cottonwood Valley, which is from one to five miles in width, |
there are about twenty square miles of arable land, which the
Mormons talk of occupying for cotton plantations. Thence ~
the river flows for twenty-five miles through Pyramid and q
other lesser caiions to a point three miles above Fort Mojave, ;
where the bottom widens out on both sides of the river, in —
some places to ten miles, and so continues to where our line :
crosses it three miles above the ‘Needles.’ This is the :
Mojave valley; it is rich in soil, and contains about 100 ©
square miles, of which over one-half is covered with cotton- q
wood and mezquit trees. Below our crossing occur the —
GOLDEN BULLETS. 189
Needles, where the projecting spurs of the Mojave Moun-
tains, which wall in the Colorado on either side, impinge for
probably six to eight miles directly on the river. Then comes
the Chemenevis valley, about five miles wide, and very similar
to the Mojave valley. Below the mouth of Bill Williams
Fork there are occasional narrows, with wide and long
‘stretches of bottom-land, sometimes, as at La Paz, thirty
miles wide. This alteration continues to Fort Yuma.
‘Whipple estimated the Colorado valley to contain, from
Fort Mojave, south, 1,660 square miles of arable land,
without including the southern desert—that part of the
Great Basin lying south of the Morongo Range—which might
be rendered fertile by means of irrigation.”
Before considering the mineral productions of this section
of the route, I will conclude the accounts of its physical
characteristics with Dr. Parry’s testimony :—“ In point of
fact, without taking into consideration the undeveloped
mi neral wealth locked up in her granite mountains, central
Arizona comprises as large an extent of habitable and pro-
ductive country as any other section west of the agricultural
basin of the Mississippi.”
The Mogollon ranges, which reach as far north as the Rio
pla, are found, by the united testimony of all explorers who
nave dared to” traverse this section of the Apache country,
0 be very rich in gold and other minerals. It is here
hat Aubrey reported having met Indians with golden
bullets. ‘‘They are,” said he, “ of different sizes, and each
Indian has a pouch of them. We saw an Indian load his
4) n with one large and three small gold bullets to shoot a
abbit.”
None of our surveyors were fortunate enough to be able to
rroborate this report; but they obtained seven or eight
190 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
bullets of native manufacture which contained a larger per-}
centage of silver than of lead. |
From the San Francisco Mountains to the Aquarius Range,
seventy-five miles east of the Colorado River, the proposed line
passes to the north of the ascertained and developed —
wealth, which is abundant in that extensive section of central |
Arizona, of which Prescott is the mining capital. This is, |
however, readily reached by a branch of easy grades, sixty |
miles in length, which can be cheaply built down the Val de |
Chino; and a fork can be extended thence to the Wicken- |/
burgh mining region. i
In this district the most promising mine is the Vulture, |
which yields about 25,000 dollars a month, and in which |
seventy-five men (mostly Mexicans) are employed. (
The following statement will show at a glance how hard it \
is for even a first-class mine to pay largely in these regions |
whilst they remain shut out as they are from the rest of “ |
world. q
Voutture Mine anp Mrty.—Monturty Expenses
Payroll. Pa eee eae ee ee eA
Incidentals . . i a + 23,020
Hauling ore, 864 tons, ‘at 10 dollars ee a ere
uel A RES |
Tritetoat on capital invested . Se pee oe ge B18
total monthly expense SB TO
Monruty Returns.
864 tons, yielding 30 dollars per ton . , ‘ . 25,920
Net monthly profit . . ; - ‘ ‘ : "3,165
On both sides of the Colorado River north and south of |
Fort Mojave are mines of gold, silver, and copper, the value
- which is greatly enhanced by their proximity to this
_ strea: which will thus serve as a most valuable feeder to the {
MINES ALONG THE COLORADO. 191
railroad. Of these the best known are the copper mines of the
Bill Williams, of which Mr. Ross Brown says—‘‘ There are
fifty good mines of rich copper, black and red oxides, silicates,
and carbonates, all of such a character that they can be
readily smelted by heat alone. The ores average forty per
cent. of metal. Many of these ores are also rich in gold, for
which mills have been erected.”
_ These mines were visited by Dr. Parry in December, who
reports that they were shipping all ores of forty per cent. and
over to San Francisco by an uncertain and circuitous water-
channel nearly 2,500 miles long, and that the main bulk was
thence transported, by way of Cape Horn, to Swansea, in
Wales, for reduction. Even then they paid their possessors.
4 Dr. Parry also visited the mining regions in western
Arizona, south of Bill Williams Mountain, of which he
reports :—‘‘ At several points gold has been successfully
worked, yielding, in a few instances, rich returns from the
r udest processes of dry washing. Quartz veins crop out in
wonderful abundance in several isolated localities ; especially
noted ten to fifteen miles west of La Paz, where vik deposits
of silver and copper ores are also known to exist, and have
been partially worked; but, in nearly every instance, mining
enterprise has been tvsed to succumb to insurmountable
diff culties, and in not a few cases to actual loss of life.”
From ten to forty miles north of Callville, which is 100
iles above Fort Mojave, both being on the Colorado, are the
mous Salt Mountains, where there is an inexhaustible quan-
ty of pure rock salt very accessible to miners. At one point
ere isa surface exposure of seventy feet, clear as a crystal.
r several miles square the formation is reported to be
nost exclusively of this crystalline salt. There is a little
op, of twenty-five tons, running from Fort Mojave to
-.
192 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Callville, which takes up merchandise and brings back salt, |
potatoes, and other produce. Aubrey reports having found :
rich gold placers between Fort Mojave and Callville, near the 4
mouth of Yampa Creek. 4
* * Y * * * .
California, to the Western traveller, means civilisation ; the |
very name implies “ square meals ” (déjetiner a la fourchette?), 4
arm-chairs, boot-blacking, and other luxuries; but the man |
_ who enters it by crossing the Colorado at the Needles would —
certainly not recognise the Golden State. Two hundred and ,
thirty-five miles of complete desert have to be passed through
before he reaches the base of the Sierra Nevada. The line
surveyed by our parties, after leaving the river at an eleva- |
tion of only 428 feet, ascends again 2,151 feet to Piute |
Summit, where it enters the Great Basin and then gradually
descends into a natural depression only 675 feet above the |
sea. From this basin—called “Perry Sink,” after our |
botanist—it passes into the Mojave Basin, and at last reaches
the foot of Tehachapa Pass, where the fertile slopes of the |
sierra are soon reached. Here the surveyors met agricultural |
settlements for the first time for many weeks, and found the |
mountain glades well furnished with fine timber. Their camp |
In one of the oak groves, which are so abundant here, forms —
the subject of the accompanying engraving. ;
The rains, which were so incessant during the month of
January at San Francisco, extended with diminished force >
over this southern desert also, and greatly impeded the _
progress of the parties; when, however, they had crossed the |
mountains and tried to march through the central trough of |
California—the Tulare yalley—they found themselves almost :
brought to a standstill. General Palmer here left them, and ‘
a in company with Colonel Willis, Dr. Parry, and Captain —
TEHACHAPA PASS IN THE
SIERRA NEVADA.
yy
aS
Ne
+>
MINERAL WEALTH. 193
Colton, who had joined him from San Diego, found his way,
as best he could, by horse, wagon, stage and rail, to San
Francisco.
It is useless to praise the agricultural resources of Cali-
fornia, for they are well known, or to speculate upon the
most probable route for the railway through its midst ; for it
matters little whether it runs to the east or west of the Great
Tulare Lake, whether it continues all the way in the San
Joaquin valley, or crosses the coast range into the fertile
plains of the Salinas. Whatever be its course it will develop
vast areas of land unsurpassed in productiveness by any on
the globe.
__ As regards mineral wealth, the southern half of the Great
Basin is quite as rich in silver as the northern; and although
“unexplored” covers this barren tract in our atlases, it is
in reality divided into countries and mining districts, which
li tter are fast multiplying every year.
Most of the gold mining in California is carried on along
the western foot of the Sierra Nevada, and although it does
not yield the same amount as formerly, it has developed into
a steady thriving industry, with no more excitement about it
than any other regular occupation.
_ The ingenuity displayed by the Californian miners in
rying to obtain the gold from the soil is extraordinary.
The first arrivals used only the pan, a flat iron saucer about
ighteen inches in diameter, for extracting the gold. Soon
he rocker was introduced. It is shaped like a cradle with a
iddle above at one end, upon which the pay dirt is placed,
md transverse grooves along the bottom to catch the gold,
vhile the miner rocks the cradle with one hand, and washes
e pay dirt through the riddle with the other. For the first
four years, although the pan and the rocker were alone
; VOL, 1. 0
194 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA,
relied upon, most of the rich, well-watered placers were soo
exhausted, and it was necessary that some means should be
devised for directing water to less-favoured districts. This
led to the introduction of mining ditches to carry water from
the highest springs in the hills to the auriferous ground a
their base. Such ditches were expensive, for the water had
to be brought in “flumes” for miles across ravines 200 0
300 feet deep, along thé rugged mountain-sides, and often
through rock cuttings; and the capital required to make
these aqueducts had usually to be borrowed at the rate of
from 3 to 10 per cent. per month. ‘
With the mining ditches came the “tom” and sluice. The
tom is a trough twenty feet long and eight fect deep; it is!
fifteen inches wide at the head and thirty at the foot. This |
trough rests upon a flat box; its bottom is formed of sheet-.
iron pierced with holes, through which the pay dirt is
washed by a constant stream of water. The gold is caught
by transverse “cleets,” or « riffles,” which rise from the
bottom of the box, and all the pay dirt which passes over the
tom undecomposed is again thrown back, to go through.
the same process again. The sluice is the box of the tom in|
principle, elongated to any length from 100 to 1,000 feet ;
it has transverse cleets along its whole length, to catch the |
gold, and is placed at an inclination of one in twenty, so as |
to cause the water to rush through it like a torrent. This
GOLD MINING. 195
ally, that is, to wash out the metal from the sand at the
bottom.
By the end of the year 1852 the surface placers were
nearly exhausted, good sluice claims were at a high premium,
and there was not work enough for one-third of the miners.
Large amounts of capital were required for the ditch com-
panies, and almost as much for the sluices.
In this predicament, the attention of the American miners
was suddenly directed to quartz mining. The Mexicans had
worked quartz veins for a long time by pounding the ore in
mortars, or grinding it in their rude arrastras, and extracting
the fine gold-dust by means of quicksilver. The Americans
immediately introduced stamp mills, and their ideas were so
large that the most bulky and elaborate machinery was soon
in operation; companies with large capital were rapidly
formed ; many hands were employed; quartz was crushed in
enormous quantities in a great number of places, whether it
was rich or poor, and complete failure was consequently the
result in the great majority of cases. A stamp mill has
already been explained and figured in chap. xii., vol. i.
The first attempt at quartz mining having proved unsuccess-
ful, the miners tried to invent a process by which the gold
could be cheaply extracted from large quantities of land
which contained only a small percentage. This led to the
hydraulic process. With “poor dirt” to work up, the
shovel did not furnish earth enough for the sluice, and the
wages of twelve out of twenty men must, if possible, be
saved. As early as 1852, a man named Mattison, of Con-
necticut, invented an hydraulic machine, by means of which
a stream of water could be directed, under heavy pressure,
against a bank or hill-side, containing placer gold, and the
earth torn down by the action of the jet of water and carried
: 0 2
-
i
‘
;
:
196 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA. |
}
into the sluice to be washed, thus saving the expense off)
shovelling.
It was long before this process made much way in Cali- i
fornia ; but at present it is in general use, and pays largely),
Its ssiveninbes are enormous. A man with a rocker, folll F
instance, can wash out one cubic yard of earth in a day; witli i
eee
Hydraulic Mining.
and sluice together, fifty, or even a hundred. A stream off,
water rushing through a two-inch pipe, under pressure of 200)
feet perpendicular, has tremendous force, and the hill-sides
crumble away before it as if they were made of srisesiana F
y
\
. ° t
a tom, two; with a sluice, four; and, with an hydraulic squirt i
r
i
THE HYDRAULIC PROCESS. 197
In the engraving, the water-pipes, the hydraulic squirt,
nd the sluice are clearly shown. The two former are usually
owned by a water-company, which supplies the water to the
niners at so much a thousand cubic feet. Hundreds of miles
f iron pipes now ramify through the mountains in every
lirection ; and even their transportation to these remote
fegions represents an enormous amount of capital.
This powerful agent has changed the whole face of nature
n a hundred districts along the base of the mountains. I
ave seen valleys obliterated, hills levelled to the ground,
ivers turned from their course and fertile tracts of country
sovered with bare heaps of gravel miles in extent. It is an
xtraordinary sight to pass through a region which has for
ome time been subjected to the hydraulic process. A Cali-
ornian might well return from a year’s travel in Europe, and
ir d, like Rip Van Winkle, that everything had so changed
his absence that not a hill remained standing where he
iad left it.
‘ Notwithstanding all the varied and ingenious appliances
vhich the Americans have introduced, the yearly production
f gold in California has steadily been on the decrease, whilst
the exportation of precious metal has, owing to the produc-
tiveness of other territories, been as steadily advancing.
_ Since 1848, the Western States and Territories have produced
no less than £250,000,000 sterling of precious metals, and
they continue to yield yearly about £15,000,000 more.
M exico produced in the three hundred years previous to
1845 about £540,000,000. Since then the annual yield has
probably not exceeded £5,000,000; so that, although the
fotal yield up to 1867 would be about £600,000,000, the
United States will probably exceed that sum before the end
the present century.
198 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Whilst General Palmer, Dr. Parry, and Major Calhouw
were examining the natural productions of the country, ang
the surveyors were hard at work trying to find a level routé
across the regions which lie about 100 miles south of th
Great Cafion of the Colorado, an unfortunate prospector wal
actually floating through that stupendous chasm on a simpk
raft of cotton-wood. Dr. Parry had the good fortune to me¢
this man, after his perilous trip, at Hardyville, on the Ru
Colorado, and to hear from his own lips the story of hi
adventure. The doctor carefully noted all the particulars d
the story, and closely cross-questioned the hero of it, whq
although a simple and illiterate man, was brave, atraigil y
forward, and one to be thoroughly believed. Major Calhoun!
who had appointed to meet him at Fort Mojave, but was pre
vented from doing so, has kindly compiled for me the follow
ing account from the notes taken by Dr. Parry, and is thu
the writer of one of the most tragic pages to be met with 1 U
the histories of actual adventure.
CHAPTER XIII.
PASSAGE OF THE GREAT CANON OF THE COLORADO BY JAMES
| WHITE, THE PROSPECTOR.
T'WENTY years ago the trapper and hunter were the romantic
characters of the Far West. They still figure in fiction, and
there is a fascination about their daring deeds which, in
America, makes Boone a household name, and throws an
air of chivalry, seldom to be felt now-a-day, around the
exploits of such men as Carson, Crockett, and Williams.
Nor is our admiration for these hardy men undeserved ; they
have trapped on every Western stream, and hunted on every
mountain-side, despite the opposition of the Indian and the
barrier of winter snows. They have been the skirmish line
of that great army of occupation which is daily pushing
estward, and they have taught the savage to respect the
wwhite man’s courage and to fear the white man’s power.
While the field for the trapper and hunter has been
gradually growing less, another class of adventurers has come
into existence—the “prospectors” im search of precious
metals. Within the last nineteen years these men have
traversed every mountain slope, from the rugged peaks of
British Columbia to the rich plateaux of old Mexico ; and
have searched the sands of every stream from the Mississippi
to the shores of the Pacific, stimulated by the same hope of
E
3
200 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
reward that led the early Spaniards to explore places, stilf
unsettled, in their search for an “El Dorado.” Could the
varied and adventurous experience of these searchers for gold
be written we should have a record of daring and peril tha
no fiction could approach, and the very sight of gold would
suggest to our minds some scene of startling tragedy, some
story of hair-breadth escape. Could we but gather and set
down in proper form the geographical knowledge possessed
by these men, we should know as much of the western wild s
as we now do of the long-settled portions of the Americs n
continent. 3 4
Tt has fallen to the lot of one of these prospectors to be
the learned at home and abroad, who could but theorise
before his voyage as to the stupendous chasms or cafior
through which the Colorado cleaves its course, |
the swagger or bravado peculiar to the majority of frontier
men. Like thousands of our own young men, well enough
off at home, he grew weary of the slow but certain method
of earning his bread by regular employment at a stated
salary. He had heard of men leaping into wealth at a singl
_ bound in the Western gold-fields, and for years he yearned to
— go to the land where fortune was so lavish of her favours :
THEY JOURNEY ON FOOT. 201
- He readily consented then to be one of a party from his
neighbourhood who, in the spring of 1867, started for the
plains and the gold-fields beyond. When they left Fort
Dodger, on the Arkansas River, April 13th, 1867, the party
consisted of four men, of whom Captain Baker, an old miner
and ex-officer in the Confederate army, was the acknowledged
leader. The destination of this little party was the San Juan
valley west of the Rocky Mountains, about the gold-fields of
which prospectors spoke in the most extravagant terms,
stating that they were only deterred from working the rich
placers of the San Juan by fear of the Indians. Baker and
his companions reached Colorado “ city,” at the foot of Pike’s
Peak, lat. 38°, in safety. This place was, and is still, the
depét for supplying the miners who work the diggings
cattered through South Park, and is the more important
for being situated at the entrance of Ute Pass, through
which there is a wagon-road crossing the Rocky Mountains,
a od descending to the plateau beyond. The people of
Colorado “city” tried to dissuade Baker from what they
‘considered a rash project, but he was determined to carry out
the original plan. These representations, however, affected
one of the men so much that he left the party, and the others,
‘Captain Baker, James, White, and Henry Strole, completed
their outfit for their prospecting tour.
_ The journey was undertaken on foot, with two pack mules
to carry the provisions, mining tools, and the blankets they
considered necessary for the expedition. On the 25th of May
they left Colorado “city,” and crossing the Rocky Mountains,
through the Ute Pass, they entered South Park, being still on
the Atlantic slope of the continent. Ninety miles brought
em across the Park to the Upper Arkansas, near the Twin
Lakes. They then crossed the Snowy Range, or Sierra
202 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Madre, and descended towards the Pacific. Turning south-
west, they passed around the head-waters of the Rio Grand
del Norte, and after a journey of 400 miles, they reached in
safety the Animas, the most northern branch of the San Juan
River, which flows into the Great Colorado from the east.
They were now in the land where their hopes centred, and
to reach which they had crossed plains and mountains, and
forded rapid streams, leaving the nearest abodes of the white
man hundreds of miles to the east. Their prospecting for
gold began in the bed of the Animas, and though they were
partially successful, the result did not by any means reach
their expectations ; so they followed down the stream intd
not in the quantity they expected; so they gradually moved
west, along the beautiful valley, for 200 miles, when they
found that the San Juan entered a deep and gloomy cafion |
To avoid this they forded the river to the right bank, and
struck across a rough timbered country, directing their
course towards the Great Colorado. d
Having travelled through this rough country for a distance Qo
estimated at fifty miles, they reached Grand River, being
still above the junction of Green River, the united waters 0 :
which two streams form the Colorado proper. At the point
where they struck the river it was hemmed in by cliffs of
perpendicular rock, down which they could gaze at the
coveted water, dashing and foaming two thousand feet below.
Men and animals were suffering for water, so they pushed up
the stream along the rocky uneven cafion wall, hoping to
find a place where they could descend to the river. After a |
day spent in clambering over and around the huge rocks
that blocked their way, they came upon a side cafion, which |
: ae succeeded i in —— with their animals, and where |
DISAPPOINTMENT. 203
‘they obtained the water of which all stood so much in
need.
On the night of the 23rd of August they encamped at the
bottom of the cafion, where they found plenty of fuel, and
grass in abundance for their animals. As they sat around
the camp fire they lamented their failure in the San Juan
country, and Strole began to regret that they had undertaken
the expedition. But Baker, who was a brave, sanguine
fellow, spoke of placers up the river about which he had
heard, and promised. his companions that all their hopes
should be realised, and that they should return to their
homes to enjoy the gains and laugh at the trials of their trip.
So glowingly did he picture the future, that his companions
even speculated as to how they should spend their princely
H ortunes when they returned to the States. Baker sang songs
of home and hope, and the others lent their voices to the
chorus till, far into the night, they sank to sleep unguarded,
to dream of coming opulence, and to rise refreshed for the
morrow’s journey. _
_ Early next morning they breakfasted, and began the ascent
‘of the side cafion up the opposite bank to that by which they had
entered it. Baker was in the advance with his rifle slung at
his back, gaily springing up the rocks towards the table-
land above. Behind him came White ; Strole, with the
ules, brought up the rear. Nothing disturbed the stillness
f the beautiful summer morning but the tramping of the —
ules and the short heavy breathing of the climbers. They
d ascended but half the distance to the top, when stopping
ra moment to rest, suddenly the war-whoop of a band of
vages rang out, sounding as if every rock had a demon’s
Simultaneously with the first whoop a shower of
ws and bullets was poured into the little party. With
-
204 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
the first fire Baker fell against a rock, but, rallying for a’
moment, he unslung his carbine and fired at the Indians, who
now began to show themselves in large numbers, and then,
with the blood flowing from his mouth, he fell to the ground
White, firing at the Indians as he advanced and followed b
Strole, hurried to the aid of his wounded leader. Baker, with ar
effort, turned to his comrades and said with his last breath,
‘“‘ Back, boys, back! save yourselves; I am dying.” To the
credit of White and Strole be it said, they faced the savages
and fought till the last tremor of the powerful frame told
them that Baker was dead. |
Then slowly they began to retreat, followed by the exultant
Indians, who, stopping to strip and mutilate the dead body
in their path, gave the white men a chance to secure their
animals, and retrace their steps into the side cafion, beyond
the immediate reach of the Indians’ arrows. Here they held
a hurried consultation. To the east, for 300 miles, stretched an.
uninhabited country, over which, if they attempted to escape’
in that direction, the Indians, like bloodhounds, would follow
their track. North, south, and west, was the Colorado with
its tributaries, all flowing through deep chasms across which
it would be impossible for men or animals to travel. Their
deliberations were necessarily short, and resulted in a decision
to abandon the animals—first securing their arms, a small
stock of provisions, and the ropes or lariots of the mules.
Through the descending side cajion they travelled due west
for four hours, and emerged at last on a low strip of bottom: —
land on Grand River, above which, for 2,000 feet on either
bank, the cold grey walls rose to block their path, leaving
to them but one avenue for escape—the dashing current of
the river.
snd found considerable quantities of drift-wood along the
’
THEY TAKE TO THE RIVER. 205
banks, from which they collected enough to enable them to
construct a raft capable of floating themselves, with their
arms and provisions. This raft consisted of three sticks of
cotton-wood, about ten feet in length and eight inches in
diameter, lashed firmly together with their lariots. Procuring
two stout poles with which to guide the raft, and fastening
the bag of provisions to the-logs, they waited for midnight to
come with the waning moon, so as to drift off unnoticed by
the Indians. They did not consider that even the sun looked
down into that chasm for but one short hour in the twenty-
four, and then left it to the angry waters and blackening
shadows; and that the faint moonlight reaching the bottom
of the cafion would hardly serve to reveal the horror of their
situation. Midnight came, as they thought, by the measure-
ment of the dark, dreary hours; when, seizing the poles,
they untied the rope that held the raft, and, tossed about by
the current, they rushed through the yawning cafion on their
adventurous voyage to an unknown landing. Through the
long night they clung to the raft as it dashed against half-
concealed rocks, or whirled about like a plaything in some
eddy, whose white foam was perceptible even in the blackness.
_ They prayed for the daylight, which came at last, and with
it a smoother current and less rugged banks, though the cafion
walls appeared to have increased in height. Early in the
morning (August 25th) they found a spot where they could
make a landing, and went ashore. After eating a little of
their water-soaked provisions, they returned and strengthened
their raft by the addition of some light pieces of cedar, which
had been lodged in clefts of the rocks by recent floods. White
estimates the width of the river where they landed at 200
yards, and the current at three miles per hour. After a short
ay at this place they again embarked, and during the rest of
206 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
the day they had no difficulty in avoiding the rocks =
whirlpools that met them at every bend of the river.
In the afternoon, and after having floated over a distance
estimated at thirty miles from the point of starting, they
reached the mouth of Green River, or rather where the Green
and the Grand unite to form the Colorado proper. Here th
cafions of both streams form one of but little greater width,
but far surpassing either in the height and grandeur of its
walls. At the junction, the walls were estimated at 4,00
feet in height. Detached pinnacles appeared to rise, one ce
the other, for 1,000 feet higher, from amidst huge masses. of
rock, confusedly piled, like grand monuments to commemorate
this “meeting of the waters.” The fugitives felt the
sublimity of the scene, and in contemplating its stupendous
and unearthly grandeur, they forgot for the time their own
sorrows.
The night of the day upon which they entered the ca
Caiion, and indeed on nearly all the subsequent nights of th
voyage, the raft was fastened to a loose rock, or hauled up on
some strip of bottom-land, where they rested till _—
next morning.
As they floated down the cajion the grey sandstone walls
creased in height; the lower portion was smooth from the
action of floods, but the perpendicular wall-rock above becamé
more and more rugged, until the far-off sky appeared to rest
upon a fringe of pinnacles on either side. Here and there a
stunted cedar clung to the cliff-side 2,000 feet overhead, or @
prickly cactus tried to suck sustenance from the bare rock.
No living thing in sight beyond the raft, for even the wing
of bird which could pass the chasms in the upper world never
fanned the dark air in those subterranean depths. Nought
_ to gaze on but their own pale faces and the cold grey walls
om
“|
THE FOURTH DAY, 207
hat hemmed them in, and mocked at their escape. Here
and there the raft shot past side cafions, black and forbidding,
ike cells set in the walls of a mighty prison.
Baker had informed his comrades as to the geography of
he country, and while floating down they remembered that
Valville was at the mouth of the cafion, which could not be
ar off ; “such wonderful walls could not last.” Then hope
same with the promise of escape. A few days would take
them to Calville; their provisions could be made to last for
ve. So these two men, thus shut zz from the world, buried,
is it were, in the very bowels of the earth, in the midst of a
reat unknown desert, began to console themselves, and even
o jest at their situation.
‘ Forty miles below their entrance into the cafion of the
Jolorado, they reached the mouth of the San Juan River.
t ey attempted to enter it, but its swift current cast them
ack. The perpendicular walls, high as those of the Colorado,
vith the water flowing from bank to bank, forbade their
ba ndoning their raft to attempt escape in that direction. So
hey floated away. At every bend of the river it seemed as
f they were descending deeper into the earth, and that the
valls were coming closer together above them, shutting out
he narrow belt of sky, thickening the black shadows, and
edoubling the echoes that went up from the foaming waters.
d = days had elapsed since they embarked on the
raft ; it was now August 28th. So far they had been
Bstontly wet, but the water was comparatively warm, and
he current more regular than they could have expected.
trole had taken upon himself to steer the raft, and, against
advice of White, he often set one end of the pole against
bank or some opposing rock, and then leaned with the
er end against his shoulder, to push the raft away. As
208 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA. :
*
yet they had seen no natural bridge spanning the cha
above them, nor had fall or cataract prevented their safe
advance. About three o’clock on the afternoon of the 28th,
they heard the deep roar as of a waterfall in front of them;
They felt the raft agitated, then whirled along with frightfu
rapidity towards a wall that seemed to bar all farther progress.
As they approached the cliff, the river made a sharp ee
around which the raft swept, disclosing to them, in a lon
vista, the water lashed into foam, as it poured through é
narrow precipitous gorge, caused by huge masses of rock
detached from the main wall. There was no time to think.
The logs strained as if they would break their fastenings
The waves dashed around the men, and the raft was buried
in the seething waters. White clung to the logs with th
grip of death. His comrade stood up for an instant with the
pole in his hands, as if to guide the raft from the rocks against
which it was plunging; but he had scarcely straightened
before the raft seemed to leap down a chasm, and, amid the
deafening roar of waters, White heard a shriek that thrille
him to the heart, and looking round he saw, through the mist
and spray, the form of his comrade tossed for an instant om!
the water, then sinking out of sight in the whirlpool.
White still clung to the logs, and it was only when the
raft seemed to be floating smoothly, and the sound of the
rapids was left behind, that he dared to look up; then it was
to find himself alone, the provisions lost, and the lengthening
shadows warning him of the approaching night. A feeling
of despair seized him, and clasping his hands he prayed for
the death he was fleeing from. He was made cognizant of
more immediate danger by the shaking of his raft, the logs
=e separating ; ; then he worked, and succeeded in effecting.
s near some flat rocks, where he made his raft fa
RAPIDS AHEAD. * 209
or the night. After this he sat down, to spend the long
gloomy hours in contemplating the horror of his situation,
eyond to the settlements. Had he done so, he would have
eturned to his home, and rested satisfied with his experience
is a prospector. And when he thought of “home,” it called
1p the strongest inducements for life, and he resolyed, to use
is own words, “to die hard, and like a man.”
Gradually the dawn, long perceptible in the upper world,
degan to creep down the black cafion, and gave him light to
trengthen his raft, and launch it again into the treacherous
iver. As he floated down he remembered the sad fate of
trole, and took the precaution to lash himself firmly to the
ait, so as to preclude the possibility of his being separated
om it. This forethought subsequently saved his life. His
ourse through the cafion was now over a succession of rapids,
ocked up by masses of rock, over which his frail raft
humped and whirled, at times wholly submerged in the
caming water. At one of these rapids, in the distance of
bout a hundred yards, he thinks the river must have fallen —
etween thirty and forty feet. In going over this place the
0gs composing the raft became separated at the upper end,
md, spreading out like a fan, White was thrown into the
water. He struggled to the side by means of his rope, and with
a desperate strength held the logs together till they floated
nto calmer water, when he succeeded in refastening them.
_ White’s trials were not yet at an end, and in relating the
following incident he showed the only sign of emotion ex-
ubited during his long series of answers.
_ VOL, Ir. P
a NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
About four miles below where the raft separated he reach}
the mouth of a large stream, which he afterwards learned wi
the Colorado Chiquito. The cafion through which it enter,
the main river is very much like that of the San Juan, an}
though it does not discharge so large a body of water, th)
current is much more rapid, and sweeps across the Grea
Colorado, causing, in a black chasm on the opposite bank, ¢
large and dangerous whirlpool. White saw this and tried t
avoid it, but he was too weak for the task. His raft, bor
by the current of the Colorado proper, rushed down wit!
such force, that aided by his paddle he hoped to pass thi
waters that appeared to sweep at right angles across hi
course from the Chiquito. When he reached the mouth ¢
the latter stream the raft suddenly stopped, and swingitl
round for an instant as if balanced on a point, it yielded #
the current of the Chiquito and was swept into the whirlpool,
White felt now that all further exertion was useless, a
dropping his paddle, he clasped his hands and fell upon th
raft. He heard the gurgling waters around him, and ever}
moment he felt that he must be plunged into the boilin f
vortex. He waited with his eyes closed for some minute
when, feeling a strange swinging sensation, he opened the
and found that he was circling round the whirlpool, som ; :
times close to the vortex, and at others thrown back by som.
invisible cause to the outer edge only to whirl again toward)
the centre. Thus borne by the circling waters he looke4
UPy: UD; UD) through the mighty chasm that seemed bend)
ing over him as if about to fall and crush him. He sav
in the blue belt of sky which hung above him like an etherea
river the red tinged clouds floating, and knew that the suf
Was setting in the upper world. Still around the whirlpooh
: __ the raft swung, like a circular pendulum measuring the lon{
.
THE WHIRLPOOL. 211
moments before expected death. He felt a dizzy sensation,
and thinks he must have fainted; he knows he was uncon-
‘Scious for a time, for when again he looked up between the
walls, whose rugged summits towered 5,000 feet above
him; the red clouds had changed to black, and the heavy
Shadows of night had crept down the cation.
Then, for the first time, he remembered that there was a
‘Strength greater than that of man, a power that holds the
ocean in the hollow of His hand. ‘“T fell on my knees,” he
said, “and as the raft swept round in the current, I asked
God to aid me. I spoke as if from my very soul, and said,
‘Oh, God! if there is a way out of this fearful place show it
to me; take me to it.’”” Here White’s voice became husky,
and his somewhat heavy features quivered as he continued—
“Twas still looking up with my hands clasped when I felt
a different movement in the raft, and turning to look at the
whirlpool, it was some distance behind, and I was floating
down the smoothest current I had yet seen in the cafion.”
_ This statement is the only information White volunteered ;
all the rest was obtained by close questioning. One of his
friends who was present during the examination smiled
when White repeated his prayer. He noticed it, and said
with some feeling: ‘It is true, Bob, and I’m sure God took
‘me out.”
Below the mouth of the Colorado Chiquito the current was
“very slow, and White felt what he subsequently found to be
the case—viz., that the rapids were past, though he was not
equally fortunate in guessing his proximity to Calville. The
Course of the river below this he describes as exceedingly
‘crooked, with short, sharp turns,” the view on every side
eing shut in by flat precipitous walls of ‘“ white sand-rock.”
ese walls presented white perpendicular surfaces to the
Pp 2
212 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
high water-level, which had a distinct mark of about forty,
feet above the August stage. The highest part of the cafion,
White thinks, is between the San Juan and the Colorado
Chiquito, where the wall appeared to him more than one mile
(5,280 feet) in perpendicular height, and at a few points even
higher. Dr. Newberry states, from barometrical observations,
that for a long distance the altitude is nearly 7,000 feet.
But we must not begin to draw conclusions too soon, much of
interest remains to be told of this unparalleled adventure.
The current bore White from the Colorado Chiquito slowly
down ‘the main river. His clothing was torn to shreds, and
the few rags which clung to his frame were constantly
saturated with water. Each noon the sun looked into the
cafion only to pour his almost vertical rays on the famishing
man, and to burn and blister those parts of his body that the
scanty rags did not cover. One, two, three, four days
dragged slowly past since he tasted food, and still the current
bore him through the towering walls of the cafion. The
hunger maddened him. He felt it burning into his vitals.
His thoughts were of food! food! food! and his sleeping |
moments were filled with Tantalus-like dreams. Once he 4
raised his arm to open some vein and draw nutriment from | f
his own blood, but its shriyelled, blistered length frightened
him. For hours as he floated down he would sit looking into
the water, yet lacking courage to make the plunge that would
rid him of all earthly pain. On the morning of the fifth day |
since he had tasted food, he saw a flat bank with some
mezquit bushes upon it, and by using all his strength he
succeeded in reaching it with his raft. He devoured the few
green pods and the leaves of the bushes, but they only |
increased his desire for more. The journey was resumed,
= he remembers that anes the last two days of unbroken
SIX DAYS WITHOUT FOOD. 213
cafion wall, the rocks became very black, with shining sur-
faces—probably where the igneous took the place of the
cretaceous rocks.
Six days without food, save the few green leaves, and
eleven days since starting, and still the uneven current bore
on the raft with its wretched occupant. He saw occasional
breaks in the wall, with here and there a bush. Too weak to
move his raft, he floated past and felt no’ pain, for the over-
wrought nerves refused to convey sensation.
On the afternoon of this, the sixth day, he was roused by
hearing the sound of human voices, and, raising himself on
one arm, he looked towards the shore, and saw men beckon-
ing to him. A momentary strength came to his arms, and,
grasping the paddle, he urged the raft to the bank. On
reaching it he found himself surrounded by a band of
-Yampais Indians, who for many years have lived on a low
strip of alluvial land along the bottom of the cafion, the trail
to which, from the upper world, is only known to themselves.
One of the Indians made fast the raft, while another seized
White roughly and dragged him up the bank. He could not
-remonstrate; his tongue refused to give a sound, so he
pointed to his mouth and made signs for food. The fiend
that pulled him up the bank, tore from his blistered shoulders
the shreds that had once been a shirt, and was proceeding to
take off the torn trousers, when, to the credit of the savage
be it said, one of the Indians interfered, and pushed back his
companions. He gave White some meat, and roasted mez-
quit. beans to eat, which the famished man devoured, and
after a little rest he made signs that he wanted to go to the
nearest dwellings of the white men. The Indians told him
he could reach them in “two suns” by his raft, so he stayed
with them all night, and with a revolyer that remained
214 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
fastened to the logs, he purchased some mezquit beans, an
the half of a dog.
Early the next morning he tottered to the bank, and again?
pushed into the current. The first day out he gave way ta
the yearnings for food, and, despite his resolution to the
contrary, he ate up his entire stock of provisions, which did
not, by any means, satisfy his craving. Three long days |
of hope and dread’ passed slowly by, and still no signs of
friends. Reason tottered, and White stretched himself on
the raft; all his energies exhausted, life and death were to
him alike indifferent.
Late in the evening of the third day after leaving the
Indians, and fourteen days from the time of starting on this
perilous voyage, White again heard voices, accompanied by
the rapid dash of oars. He understood the words, but could
make no reply. He felt a strong arm thrown around him,
and he was lifted into a boat, to see manly bearded faces’
looking on him with pity. The great objective point,
Calville, was reached at last; the battle for a life was won,
but with the price of unparalleled suffering. The people
of this Mormon settlement had warm, generous hearts, and, |
like good Samaritans, lavishly bestowed every care on the”
unfortunate man, so miraculously thrown into their midst
from the bowels of the unknown cafion. His constitution,
naturally strong, soon recovered its terrible shock, and he -
told’ his new-found friends his wonderful story, the first :
recital of which led them to doubt his sanity. q
Charles McAllister, at present an assistant in the store of |
Mr. Todd at Fort Mojave, was one of the three men who went |
m the boat to White’s assistance. He said that he never |
rela wretched a looking man as White when he first met —
him; his feet, legs, and body were literally flayed, from ex-
SAFE AT LAST. 215
osure to drenching from water and the scorching rays of the
un. His reason was almost gone, his form stooped, and his
ryes were so hollow and dreary, that he looked like an old
nd imbecile man. Mr. W. H. Hardy, of Hardyville, near
fort Mojave, brought White thither, that we might see and
alk with him. Mr. Hardy corroborates the statements of
McAllister, and from his knowledge of the country above
Calville, says that it would be impossible for White to have
come for any distance by the river, without travelling
hrough the whole length of the Great Cafion of the Colorado.
Mr. Ballard, a mail contractor, in whose employment White is
10W earning money to take him home, says he believes him
0 be a sober, truthful man ;. but, apart from White’s state-
nent, Ballard is confident he must have traversed, and in the
nanner stated, that hitherto unexplored chasm which com-
letes the missing link between the upper and lower course
f the Great Colorado.
‘Dr. Parry, our geologist, thinks that the subjoined con-
lusions may be summed up as some of the new additions to
our previous geographical knowledge of the hydrography of
the Great Colorado of the West, derived from this remarkable
voyage.
1. The actual location of the mouth of the San Juan forty
niles below Green River junction, and its entrance by a
eafion continuous with that of the Colorado, above and
below the point of junction.
2. From the mouth of the San Juan to the Colorado
C hiquito, three days’ travel in the swiftest portion of the
eurrent allowing four miles per hour for fifteen hours or
sixty miles per day, would give an estimated distance of 180
miles, including the most inaccessible portion of the cafion.
8. From the Colorado Chiquito to Calville occupied ten
216 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
days’ travel. As this part of the route was more open, art
probably comprised long stretches of comparatively. st
water, it would not be safe to allow a distance of over thirf!
miles per day, or 300 miles for this interval. Thus the whol
distance travelled would be 550 miles, or something over 50
miles from Green River junction to the head of steamboaly
navigation at Calville.
4. The absence of any distinct cataracts, or perpendiculay
falls, would seem to warrant the conclusion that in time 0
high water, by proper appliances, in the form of india-rubbet,
boats and provisions secured in waterproof bags, with good
resolute oarsmen, the same passage might be safely made, and,
the actual course of the river mapped out, and its peculiat
geological features properly examined, :
5. The construction of bridges by a single span would re
rendered difficult of execution, on account of the usual flaring
shape of the summits. Possibly, however, points might be |
found where the mesas approach sufficiently near each oth ot
for such a purpose. :
6. The width of the river, at its narrowest point, w:
estimated at 100 feet, and the line of high-water mark at
forty feet above the average stage in August. a
7. The long-continued uniformity of the geological forma-
tion (termed ‘white sandstone,” probably eretaceous) i 8
remarkable; but under the term may have been comprise
some of the later stratified formations. The contrast on
reaching the dark igneous rocks was so marked that it could
not fail to be noticed.
8. Any prospect for useful navigation up or down ti
cafion during the season of high water, or the transportation
of lumber from the upper pine regions, could not be regarded
CONCLUSION. 217
s feasible, considering the long distance and the inaccessible
eharacter of the river-banks.
9. No other satisfactory method of exploration, except
along the course of the river, could be adopted to determine
its actual course and peculiar natural features; and James
White, as the pioneer of this enterprise, will probably long
retain the honour of being the only man who has traversed,
through its whole course, the Great Cafion of the Colorado,
and lived to recount his observations on so perilous a trip.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE RETURN JOURNEY vid SALT LAKE.
Leave San Francisco.— Ascending the Sierra Nevada on the Central Pacific]
Railroad.—Sledging across the Mountains.—Virginia City.—
Passenger.—Staging across the Desert.—How we crossed an “ Alkali
flat.” —Austin.—The Mormons.—Polygamy.—Will they migrate or wi
they remain ?—The Anti-polygamy Party.—Mr. Dilke on Mormonism.
The Electric Telegraph in the Desert.—Cross the Black Hills.—Cheyenné.
—Drive to Denyer.—Enormous herds of Antelope and Buffalo.—Fo f
Wallace again, ‘
Lats on the afternoon of February 21st I started from Sat
Francisco, and took the river boat for Sacramento, where.
next morning I was joined by Palmer and Colton. We leit
the State capital enveloped in steaming drizzle, and were glal_
to exchange the sultry oppression of the coast for the snow: |
flakes and bracing air of the Sierra Nevada. We were told
by the “conductor” of our train, as we left the depdt of i
Central Pacific of California, that the mountains commenced
two miles east of Sacramento. It is necessary to be told this
fact, for to all appearance the country is a dead level, and the
only way of accounting for it is, that so the government has }
decided. q
The line does however ascend, though gradually, for sixty
miles, at which point we entered the snows at an elevation
of 2,700 feet, and very soon the mountain scenery became
Alpine in its character, and snow-clad giants appeared and
disappeared amongst the clouds and drifting snow-flakes.
The train twined in and out amongst the mountains like a
_ Serpent ; sometimes clinging closely to the edge of a eg
|
CROSSING THE SIERRA NEVADA. 219
"jose depth was lost in the mist below, sometimes crossing
_ pp ravines on lofty tressel bridges, now dashing through a
}imel, then entering a mile or two of snow-sheds, and at
tes whirling round so sharp a curve that we felt as if
‘:trifugal foree would send us flying off the rails. Higher
the grades became steeper ; another engine was added as a
sher to the train, and our speed was much reduced. The
‘tas up and down the ravines between the mountains were
verb; the graceful Californian pines, with their dark
/ age, seemed to rest their heavy limbs upon the white
_ stening breasts of the hills, for so deep was the snow that
» bare portions of the trunks were buried beneath it.
‘{ was strongly reminded of one scene in Switzerland as we
pt up the mountains—the pass of the Col de Balme into
» Valley de Chamounix.
_ At thirteen miles from the summit we reached the temporary
; it of the railway, and exchanged the warmed cars for the
-erland Mail Company’s sledges. There were half-a-dozen
these waiting our arrival, each drawn by three pair of
stangs, in the sleekest possible condition. The sun was
ing, and a brilliant crimson tint was thrown for a few
ments over everything as we dashed off with a chorus of
; 90ps from the driven and shot like lightning over the
- d crisp snow.
‘hose who cross the mountains by stage in summer enjoy
- te an exciting drive; those who pass over them by sledge
ing the winter revel in scenes of inexpressible grandeur.
g ‘tom twenty to forty feet of snow lies below you, the summits
_ e€ to be crossed at an elevation exceeding 8,000 feet, the
y 1 is cut for miles along precipices whose edges are but
_uely visible to the stranger even by a bright moonlight,
the cold is intense, so much so that a dozen thicknesses
220 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
of shawl or blanket wrapt over your head fails to keep :
the piercing icy blast. For all this there is so much life . | |
excitement in ‘the scene that even the drivers, who 4 |
and playfully ‘“ wake up” their horses also. How we dasiff
on through the snow, up hill and down dale, all through | |
night! About twelve o’clock we had a biting snow-sto!
which completely covered the track, and left us nothing
steer by but the long row of poles which were stuck in J
snow to mark the road. Much of the country upon
summit was level, or nearly so, and there the snow @
deepest. The lofty telegraph poles only just raised the wi
above the surface, and many of the younger firs showed
more than their tops above the crust.
The track upon which we drove, or rather galloped, J
only wide enough for one vehicle, and now and thenf Ay
through the night one or other of the sledges would run}
the beaten way and upset in the deep snow, dragging the hors
after it, and burying them up to their necks. Then we wot
have to tumble out, and help to lift the sledge on to the tra]
again. We all got upset in turn, and some of our pa ; We
twice ; and occasionally we met trucks on runners, return
for fresh loads of railway iron, or sledges coming from ™
opposite direction. There was no room to pass on the tra®))
so that one or other had to run into the snow, and submit! ; “
cold blood to being upset. of
Thus the night went by. We changed horses evg
sixteen miles, and arrived by morning at the head of Doni
Lake, at the eastern slope of the sierra, where the snow ™f
already thawed so much that we were obliged to leave ®}
comfortable sledges and proceed by mud-wagon to Virg
_ City, about eight hours farther on.
VIRGINIA CITY. 221
mud-wagon is shaped like a coach, but it is hung lower,
ore heavily built, and has its sides made of canvas instead
ood and glass.
_ Most of the passengers who occupied the six sledges were
f at only two were going to join us across the Great Basin.
' e were discussing after breakfast the merits of the different
Hi kest of Californian blankets, offered his services in the
dst friendly way, and took us to the Savage Mine, where we
Arough it have been too often described to require any
Mmment here. Our bulky friend, the jovial proprietor of the
‘ecidental Hotel of San Francisco, may not be as well known
h the East as he is throughout the Far West; and since he
Mecame from this time the most prominent feature of the
Homeward journey, I must describe our start from Virginia
Hity, and introduce him in doing so.
When Palmer, Colton, myself, and another passenger, had
ated ourselves and packed away our wraps and blankets, to
whenever any great increase of elevation should make it
Mery cold, the agent called out for Mr. Leland, and as Mr.
Leland did not respond to the summons, he had forcibly to
He conducted from the bar-room by his friends (to whom he
Mad been saying good-bye in the usual manner nearly all the
horning), and pushed with difficulty, blanket, coat, and all,
hrough the door of the mud-wagon ; then came half-a-dozen
222 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
blankets to match the coat, and sealskin boots reaching toff
hips ; then a large bag, labelled “ muck-a-muck,” whic
soon informed us was food for the journey, should we
anything between times ; then came a gallon keg of whislh}
then a second ditto, then a third, a fourth, and, lastl
demijohn of the same. Bang went the door! “ All aboa!
Whoop !” shouted the driver, as he cracked the whip
the leaders ; and thus, amidst a chorus of cheers from
new acquaintances, and a long string of messages to T
Dick, and Harry from the stentorian voice of Leland, as
bid them good-bye, we bumped and rattled through Virgi
City. The whiskey was all finished before we reached
Lake ; and, although it was at times a nuisance, and notwi
standing the fact that the owner of it drank with every |
along the road, whether they wished or not, it was, neve!
theless, a source of great amusement, and probably helf
the horses, through the driver, out of many a “ tight” placé
Travelling day and night by stage across 700 miles!
desert is wearisome at all times, but it is especially try)?
when the frost first breaks up, and the soft, friable soil ¥*
converted into mud which is slightly frozen over at nigh}!
and lets the wheels sink through it to the axletrees. Th
happened to be our case. Had we been one week earlier, W]
could have gone upon a smooth road from Virginia Cif
to Salt Lake in four days. As it was, our average rate
All the “alkali flats ” were flooded and covered with ice
thin to bear, but quite thick enough to damage the legs
the horses ; the ruts were terrible, and both through the
and night we were jolted, first on one side, then on the 0
_and thrown violently forward into the arms of our vis-d-U}!
Every now and then the driver would call out, “ Left!
HOW WE CROSSED AN ALKALI FLAT: 223
‘Right!’ which meant that those inside were to bear all
weir weight on the side named, to prevent the wagon from
ping upset on the other. Twenty times at least we stuck in
ae mud, and had to spend hours in digging out the wheels ;
ad there was not a single night in which we had not to turn
it and walk over some especially bad place.
_ On one of these occasions, the driver pulled up at the edge
fa large sheet of water, covered with about an inch of ice.
t was bitterly cold, and there was no moon; the ground was
0 boggy that it was very doubtful whether we could possibly
each the opposite shore, two miles distant, and yet we could
ot stop where we were. This time we were drawn by four
powerful horses; and it was at last decided that Colton, the
her passenger, the driver, and myself, should first ride the
peorses across, and then that they should return for the others.
How we got through it I can hardly say; the water.reached
ypbove the horses’ girths ; every instant they would lose their
ooting in a cart-rut or a boggy spot; at some places the ice
vould almost bear, and then it would suddenly break and let
us through. We reached the other side, however, soaked to
he skin, and fast stiffening, as our clothes froze around us.
: k went the horses; but when the driver contemplated the
robable fate of seventeen stone, enveloped in a Californian
" nket coat, attempting to cross an alkali flat, his heart
ailed him, and he determined to put the horses to again.
a n the course of a couple of hours, the horses succeeded in
ng the wagon across, and we all went on again. A little
arther we met another stage, which, from the steady appear-
" ice of the lights, as seen from a distance, was evidently at
. standstill. This maud-wagon was buried up to the body in
nud ; ; it carried no passengers, but was heavily laden with
ae silver, which lay at the bottom of the wagon. The
224 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
driver, being alone, could do nothing ; so we set to work, too
out the silver, dug out the wheels, and fastened our ov
horses in front of the others. Having set this “ outfit
moving again we started afresh, with very considerable doubf
however as to how it would get through the alkali flat.
Time, of course, could not be kept, and we took our mea
at any hour during the day or night; at last we became s
demoralised that no distinction could possibly be discovere
between breakfast, dinner, or tea; so that all went indefinitely
under the name of supper. We usually supped once ever
eight hours, and did not therefore suffer from want of food.
About half-way across the desert, four days from Virgini
City, we reached Austin, at which thriving mining town wi
rested for a night, and enjoyed the luxuries of a dinner,
bed, and a breakfast. Nothing is more surprising than tht
good fare which can be had at most of the mining towns iF
California and Nevada. Our dinner at the French restaurant
was fine; we had fresh oysters from San Francisco, largé}
salmon-trout from the Humboldt River, and a variety of dishet
beautifully cooked and served. We drank Perrier Jouet of
the best quality, and claret which was not to be despised. if
course, the luxuries were expensive, but they were supplied
on all sides to the groups of miners and others who were
dining with us.
_ Two days’ and nights’ more travel brought us to the
Mormon city, where we remained some time to recruit out
strength and see the place.
“Have you been to Salt Lake ?” and “ What do you think
of the Mormons?” were the two questions I had most
frequently to answer on my return home.
Although the Mormons have been too much written on
= well as “too much married,” yet I do not altogether agree wi
THE MORMON QUESTION. 225
4 juch that has been said of them lately, and shall not there-
sre remain altogether silent on this subject.
The English view of the Mormon question is very different
om the American one; and as Utah is an American
Grritory, not an English county, we should certainly con-
#der the question from an American stand-point. In the
irst place, I deny the common assertion that Salt Lake City,
tting aside polygamy, is a moral place and that the Mormons
A Mormon Family.
€ a moral people. Is it likely, in a community where
hen have almost unlimited license, that the women will
actise strict fidelity to their masters (husbands) ? Poly-
my and strict morality have never up to the present time
ted in company, and my impressions of Salt Lake City
me to conclude that the Mormons are no exception to this
e. Why should the Mormon elders mysteriously hint at
VOL. II. Q
226 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
death as the punishment inflicted by them for female in
delity? Surely because they feel how impossible it is
maintain such fidelity in a community like theirs.
Eyery spot upon American soil, not occupied by t
Mormons, is open to the world for trade or settlement ; but;
Gentile settler in Utah finds himself beset on all sides by
many petty annoyances, that he invariably decamps. Lette
advising him to join the community are followed by others
a threatening character; and if these fail to convert dim, mo
active means are taken to prove how useless, and even unsaft
it is for him to resist the pressure of Mormon tyranny
Only conceive how offensive this is to the feelings
Americans !
The degradation of women, however, is the deepest griet
ance of all. There, in the midst. of a country where wom
appears to stand higher than anywhere else—where she is, ¢
the whole, better educated—where her influence is greater, afl
where more homage is paid to her—a community rises
which is trying to lower her position to that of a servant i
her own household. It may be very utilitarian, but it 1
extremely revolting to a people so sensitive on this subject 4
the Americans. It is rare to hear a Mormon husband ta
of his wives, he always calls them his women, and this littl
fact speaks volumes. Usually, if you dine at an elder’s table
his guests will be men, and his wives will wait upon th
party.
It is customary to envelop Mormonism in a _ highl i
coloured cloud of religious fervour; we are told how
devotedly they trust to the oe of God; how s ict
they are in their religious observances; ae they b ng
religion into their daily life, and walk as iat upon e 1
Jp pewty, however, there is, amongst the Mormons, an et ire
WESTERN VIEW OF THE SUBJECT. 227
sence of religious devotion. To an ordinary individual,
hey appear to worship no deity but the works of their own
1and—not wood and stone exactly, but coin and fruit-trees,
actories and theatres. Their text is the old one—that Pro-
idence will help those who help themselves ; and their whole
eligious teaching, if such it may be called, is pure utili-
arianism. They may convert the poor people of Wales and
‘orway by concealing the truth; but it is very doubtful
whether they ever make one true rts disciple in America—
that is, one who joins them from religious conviction, and
nat alone.
|The day after leaving Salt Lake City we picked up a very
rious little fellow on the road. He was a hump-backed
Ferman Jew, and expressed strongly in his features that
| quick and combative form of mental development traditional
io dwarfs. I was much amused at one remark he made, and
“very well expresses the general opinion amongst frontier
nen. We were all standing over a blazing log-fire at a ranche
m the Bitter Creek country, and I was listening to a tall
W estern man as he laid down the law on the Mormon ques-
10n, when one of the party remarked in the forcible language
of the country, that he could not conceive how any man
a have the bare-faced impudence to set himself up as a
Christ amongst the people, as Brigham Young has done. At |
hi 8, the little hump-back squeaked out from one corner,
“He ish right! he ish right! How much monish do you
hppose he hash made ?”
truth, the Mormons are becoming very wealthy ; and,
ndeed, they are not the only section of the “ faithful” who
ave ies by their position on the great highway of travel
Sacontinent. Besides, their colonization system is per-
3 : wee government is very effective, and the taxation-
a2
228 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
screw is not applied until the settler is firmly rooted ; the
however it is sharply turned, and the man finds, when it |
too late, that he has to pay very dearly for the start give
him in life by his Mormon brethren. 3
It is interesting, although not perhaps very profitable,
speculate on the future of these people.
Will they migrate, or will they remain ? Will ies modif
their views and actions, or will they hold out agains
Americanization ? The last year or two has shown, I think
what course events are likely to take. The Mormons knoy
perfectly well that they will remain unmolested and in f
possession of all the lands they have taken without acknow
ment from the United States’ Government, if they only gi j
up polygamy. They may profess to believe what they li Ke
and govern themselves as they please ; but if they persist i
degrading women as they at present do, some method will b
devised to break up the “institution.” Under the influene
of this argument, the Joe Smith anti-polygamy party ar
making rapid strides, especially among the outlying settl 2.
ments scattered over Utah and southern Nevada; and eve
the most orthodox of the saints are beginning. to discove
that polygamy is not an essential doctrine. Even the grea
Brigham has, I am informed, lately stated openly that he has
received no direct revelation on this important subject ; and
that therefore, at present, although he is in favour of it per
sonally, he cannot speak with authority either for or again st
the practice. This is fortunate, and leaves a very safe loop-
unpopular amongst the majority of the women, especially the
younger ones. I used to discuss the subject a good deal
with a young Mormon wife of great intelligence, and
although she professed to approve of it to me, I found out
THE ANTI-POLYGAMY PARTY. 229
Mat she had insisted upon her husband’s relinquishing the
ifea of taking a second wife into her own household.
y The rank and file of the faithful are also becoming a good
“ al enlightened as regards the payment of tithes. They do
y give | so freely as formerly ; and the loud complaints made
ignified by the name of ‘church government.” “If,” say
hose who are averse to polygamy, “we only do what is
aatural to our race, and refrain from marrying more than one
V ife, there will be no need then for maintaining a strong
im ilitary organization, since the incentive to molestation will
thave been removed.” This argument is one of the chief
Causes which makes the Joe Smith schism of such importance,
land it may eventually break down the whole system. I cer-
i@tainly expect in time that the American forms of thought,
(which are so deeply rooted in the hearts of the masses, will
rove to be too strong for Mormonism as it now exists, and
that instead of any violent measures being necessary to remove
he obnoxious sect to some more distant wilderness, its tenets
Vill become modified into some system which can be tolerated
y hile it lasts; for eventually it will die away, as thousands
\f other Gintigs abnormalities have done since Christianity
i s been established.
_ Mr. Dilke, in writing on this mubett says: ‘“ Mormonism
somes under my observation as the religious and social system
of the most successful of all pioneers of English civilization.
from this point of view it would be an immediate advantage
0 the world that they should be driven out once more into
he wilderness, again to found an England in Mexico, in
Polynesia, or on Red River.” I cannot agree with him ;
230 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
first, because I consider that even Mormon polygamy has tf
elements of social corruption and decay inherent; second i
because if rapid emigration and colonisation be the grdj
desideratum, we can obtain these ends far better by ot |
means than that of Mormonism—an institution which
himself admits must give way again and again to tf
advancing tide of Christian Saxondom ; and thirdly, becausq}
have yet to learn what kind of colony that will become whit
was founded originally upon Mormon principles.
In crossing the western desert on the Salt Lake rout
you are never removed more than thirty miles from telegraph
communication with the civilized world. The system adopte
on this line, as well as throughout the United States general
is a most admirable one. Every message is ticked 01
' simultaneously in every office all along the line; it is repré
duced perhaps a hundred times at the same moment, am
usually the office clerk takes no notice of it unless it |
intended for his own station ; then he listens to the ticking |
the instrument, and writes off the message from the soun
All along the route there is a station every fifty miles, and } 4
the impeachment trial of President Johnson was just con 2
mencing while we were on the road, our first inquiry 4
reaching one of these stations was whether there had bet
any fresh news from Washington. Sometimes the clerk
o-
and not unfrequently a long abstract of speeches deli
the Senate on the same day were traversing the wires '
we were waiting at the station, and the clerk was
*
ot the least trouble, to give them to us word for wi
THE BLACK HILLS. 231
ney were ticked out in passing. Many scraps of European
lews reached us in this way, and made it hard to believe that
re were 6,000 miles nearer sunset than those who spoke to
s through the wires. Brigham Young has private telegraph
vires laid down all over Utah and the Great Basin, uniting
is isolated communities with the central seat of government.
these all enter his house near the Tabernacle.
We accomplished the 1,350 miles from San Francisco to the
oot of the Black Hills by means of four kinds of conveyance ;
124 miles were travelled by steamboat, 92 by rail, about 250
by sledges, and the rest in mud-wagons. The 250 miles of
ledging were divided into five intervals of from 30 to 100
niles each, in which we crossed the highest mountain sum-
: its on the route; these were the Sierra Nevada, the Wah-
at oh Mountains, eed’s and Bitter Creek summits, Bridger’s ~
ss, and the Black Hills. Such changes broke the journey,
rendered it much less fatiguing than it otherwise would
been. On reaching the station at the foot of the Black
8, where the stages branch off to Denver and the south,
ound that a heavy fall of snow had stopped the traffic by —
along the Platte route; but as the storm had not
xtended as far west as the Rocky Mountains, travel was still
to Denver, and thence by the Smoky Hill Fork, our old
e, to St. Louis. We woke up Leland, who was asleep in
boot—his favourite resting-place, but how he squeezed
it has ever remained a mystery—and held a consultation
whether we should go on to Cheyenne or take the coach
Denver. The deliberations ended in a general break-up
ur little party of four. Colton started off. to see how the
was progressing in Evan’s Pass, Leland went on in the
to Cheyenne, where he expected to meet many friends,
to > some refreshment before continuing his journey,
hd
232 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
and Palmer and I took the world easy. We got a shake-do p
on the floor of the ranche or stage-station, and had a go} ;
night’s rest preparatory to starting for Denver by the m |
day stage on the morrow.
The Denver stage started for Cheyenne at seven 0 clock, fi
that it reached our ranche about mid-day. As it came
sight we quickly spied a well-known bulky figure, envelope
in an equally well-known blanket coat, seated next the drive
His cap was on the wrong way; and when all the passengel
had rushed from the stage to make the most of the twent
minutes allowed for refreshment, he alone remained master 0
his commanding position. ‘‘ Well, Leland,” we asked, “‘ wha
do you think of Cheyenne?” ‘Pretty good sort of town f for
its size, Gen’l, but it is the most warlike place I was ever in
Whiskey! It’s not whiskey at all, nor blue lightning ~~
its nitro-glycerine, you bet!” ‘But won’t you get down
old fellow ?” we suggested. ‘No, thankee,” was the submis
sive reply, “ I think T’ll take a sleep in the boot.” :
The drive from the foot of the Black Hills to Denver was
a glorious one, and occupied about nine hours. The same
man drove us the whole way ; his cattle were of the bes t,
for traffic had been very light of late; and as the thaw ha d
not reached this part of the route, the road was in splendi id
condition. During the whole distance of eighty miles we
averaged nine miles an hour, including stoppages. ne
Rocky Mountains lay in full view of us all the way, gradua
increasing in grandeur as we neared Denver; the moon was
very brilliant, and the view over the plains to the eastwa
presented an endless expanse of undulating whiteness, up
which the moonlight played like phosphorescence on
sea. The complete solitude, the vastness of the expal
es all sides, the clatter of the four-in-hand as they da
aoe
) iat Bh HES
ENORMOUS HERDS OF BUFFALO. 233
“long at a gallop, the keen sharp air, and the refreshing
nfluence of a long night’s rest made this drive inexpressibly
AMelightful.
. Three days passed quickly away at Denver, after which we
ain took to the stage, and continued our route southward
ito the end of the Kansas Pacific Railway, whose terminal
depot was at that time called Coyote. It was situated 295
miles from Denver, and ninety-two miles east of Fort Wallace,
the old starting-point of our survey.
_ Between Denver and the fort we had no fear of Indians,
nor need of escort, for the snow was yet on the ground, and
the time for hostilities had not commenced. Big game, how-
ever, was most abundant here. One herd of antelope was so
targe that, although they commenced to bound like lightning
across the road in single file as soon as they caught sight of
us, the tail of the herd nearly came in contact with our
leaders. Like many other wild animals which congregate in
herds and follow a chief, all considered themselves bound to
keep exactly in the same track. As for the buffalo, they were
‘in prodigious numbers. I had heard of wagon-trains being
Stopped for a whole day to allow them to go by, of thousands
taking fright and rushing helter-skelter over everything, and
of places where it was absolutely necessary to provide against
stampede ; but such a sight I never expected to see, and
should never have witnessed had I returned, as I had expected,
by the Platte.
On one occasion, about 150 miles from Denver, to the left
of the road, as far as the eye could reach, that is for very
many miles, the plain was completely covered with them.
ere were thousands, millions if you like, for such numbers
ere beyond calculation, and perhaps the best idea I can
‘of such a sight is to refer to the accompanying sketch,
|
{
:
:
234 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
which gives a fair idea of one of these countless herds f
American bison.
Early in the morning of the 10th of March, 1868, §
came for a second time in sight of Fort Wallace. I wf
sitting next the driver, and the sight of the red buildin;
and Sibley tents reminded me painfully of the scenes = ch
had been enacted there during my last visit. I pointed ow it
to the driver the ground upon which the Indians had email
our men, and I told him that there we had lost nine met
lulled and four wounded in one engagement. He turned
slightly round, and gave me a curious look of suspicion as he
said, ‘‘ Now there I guess you lie, for I happened to be in
every brush we had with the Indians along this here road
last summer, and although we lost ones, and twos, and threes,
some fours, and a five, we never lost nine at one time, ll
swar.” He thought I had referred to a stage-coach skirmish.
But two of the old officers remained at the fort, the others
had gone elsewhere, and one poor fellow had been killed by
the red-skins. We stopped for an hour, and had a talk over
the incidents of the summer. There were three companies ]
now established here. All the houses which were being built
when I knew the post were finished, and a fine hospital had —
been added, composed entirely of the building stone found in ~
the vicinity. Next morning we reached the rail, and thus”
returned to St. Louis,
THE PACIFIC RAILROADS.
peers Es
CHAPTER I.
HISTORY OF THE PROJECT.
Ir we were to start from the very commencement of the
‘Pacific Railroad project and trace its gradual development,
‘we should glance in succession over all the great events
which have crowded so thickly upon each other during the
last twenty years of North American history. All influenced
‘it one way or another, some retarding and others hastening
‘it towards maturity. At the close of the Mexican war in
(1848 the people of the United States found themselves
possessed of the whole country lying between the Mississippi
and the Pacific Ocean. California, New Mexico (now New
Mexico and Arizona), and Texas were then united under the
one flag; and not Jong after this event the Pacific Railroad
question became a pet subject for speculation amongst the
Most advanced promoters of railway enterprises.
The first printed notice of such a scheme, however, dates
; much further back, for in the New York Courier of 1837, an
article was written by a Dr. Hartley Carver, advocating a
_ Pacific railway. As is usual in such a case, the doctor had
_ his reward ; ; by some he was considered a wild enthusiast, by
q others a smdine
_ One year only after the conclusion of the Mexican war
238 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
came the cry of gold, which sent thousands of miners frg
every quarter of the globe, by every route, to California qf
the Pacific coast. Whilst the greater number went by |
around the Cape and across Panama, thousands boldly set
from the Eastern States by land into the unknown regions}
the Far West, and crossed the continent by different rouf
on different parallels of latitude.
Under the stimulus of this fresh necessity for a traut
continental highway, the Pacific Railroad enterprise could m
longer be kept out of Congress; and early in the decade ¢
1850 it received the cordial support of both branches of the
legislature. By an Act passed March 31st, 1853, the Wa
railroad from the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean, and
the necessary appropriations were duly granted. The Secre«
tary of War at that time was none other than Mr. Jeffersot
Davis, and the result of the explorations made under his
direction between 1854 and 1857 are comprised in the thirtee a
bulky volumes of Pacific Railroad Reports, which are as well
known to botanists, naturalists, and geologists as to geo, 4
phers and engineers. — ;
Two-thirds of the territory of the United States lies to he
west of the Mississippi, and crouched along the centre of th is
vast tract, barring off as was supposed the westward wave”
of population, stretch the Rocky Mountains—that great
Grisly Bear, over whose body it was thought impossible to
step; but these Pacific surveys threw great light upon the
anatomy of the Grisly Bear. They proved that his back.
___Was very broad, that the slope up his sides was very gradual,
that his spine did not extrude unpleasantly in the centre, but
9
Ta
3
ROUTES SURVEYED. 239 -
ty, on the contrary, rather sunk between the two rows of
¥ muscles or mountains on either side. They found depressions
jdong the spine—such as the North, Middle, South, and
ft. Louis parks—shut in on each side by the rows of muscles
: hich made the animal so formidable. They showed, more-
over, that, although he had a hump on his back (the centre of
Colorado), from which his muscular frame sloped down on all
Sides, yet that this was flat also, and could be surmounted, if
hecessary, even by a railroad; that his body ended about the
35th parallel, only leaving an insignificant tail in the way
south of that line; and also that his broad shoulders (the
Laramie plains), sliders exceeding 7,000 feet in height,
were so smooth and rounded off that they almost invited
the pathfinder to choose this place for crossing in prefer-
ence to any other.
_ The chief routes examined ang reported upon were the
following : ssc
, Ast. Between the 46th and 48th parallels, to unite Lake
Superior and the head of navigation on the Mississippi with
Puget Sound and the Columbia River. This has exclopes
into the North Pacific Railroad route.
_ 2nd. Between the 41st and 42nd parallels, to unite the
Mi ssouri River at Council Bluffs ( Omaha) with the harbour of
San Francisco. This has developed into the Union Pacific
¥ ailroad.
_brd. Between the 38th and 39th parallels, from Westport
as City), at the great bend of the Missouri, due west
ss the continent. This was an attempt to run an “air-
ne” straight over the hump on the bear’s back through the
tre of Colorado, and thence in a direct line to San Francisco.
he muscles on the eastern side were found to present no
surmountable ee and one of the depressions (the
* 240 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
St. Louis Park) along the spine was easily crossed; but {
muscles on the other side, and the furrows or gorges betw@
the ribs made this route quite impracticable.
4th. Near the 35th parallel from Fort Smith, on ¢
Arkansas River, to the harbour of San Pedro (Los Angel
on the Pacific coast. This route, with the important modi
cation of changing the starting-point to Kansas City on ch
Missouri, and the Pacific terminus to San Francisco, is th
one proposed by the Kansas Pacific, which stands in the samé
relation to St. Louis that the Omaha line does to Chicago.
5th. Near the 32nd parallel, uniting Preston on the Ree
River in Eastern Texas with the Pacific at San Diego, Sat
Pedro, or San Francisco. 1
When all these surveys had been completed, and
-Dayis had carefully weighed and examined the results,
last route was the one to which he gave the preferen Oy,
strongly urging its adoption by Congress. It was said with
perfect truth, that if the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans were ' 7
rise to the height of 4,000 feet they would meet about the
32nd parallel of latitude over the vast plateau south of the
Rocky Mountains—the Madre Plateau; while the greater
part of the continent to the northward, as well as the lofty
plateaux of Mexico to the south, would form two huge
islands, separated by this strait. Although the surveys across
other sections of the continent had almost swept away the
conventional idea of the Alpine grandeur of the Rocky
Mountains, yet they were too rapidly conducted, and the
task was too great to remove minor obstacles, which swelled
the estimates of the cost of a trans-continental railway to sums |
which made such an undertaking appear all but hopeless.
= The level route by the 32nd parallel shone out in striking
— economic contrast to all the rest, and the result was that
INFLUENCE OF THE WAR. 241
0,000,000 dollars were immediately given to Mexico in
ayment for shifting her boundary line a little farther south
lo make way for the railway.
3 - Between 1853 and 1860 the political horizon was gradually
18s ming a lowering aspect. The storm was gathering which
ultimately revolutionised the Pacific Railway question, as it
cid d almost every other great question throughout the States.
st Southern influence appeared to be, as usual, carrying
thing before it at Washington, and the truce brought
abo bout by the Missouri compromise was being respected in the
East, the vital question’ of slavery, State rights, and the rest,
vy were © hein solved in the Far West throughout “ bleeding”
sas, Arkansas, Missouri, and the surrounding territories,
a freedom and rough rapidity natural to the condition of
inhabitants. The climate influences were adverse to
ery and weighed heavily on the side of those emigrants
who poured in from the Free States with an ever-increasing
ority, bringing with them political emotions verging on
naticism, and a fixed determination to uphold the laws of
| jual justice to all men at any sacrifice. The pro-slavery
orm was defeated in the West, war followed as a direct
equence, and the almost matured project of construct-
a Southern Pacific Railroad by the 32nd parallel fell
ough as a matter of course. :
The Pacific Railway question soon took another form.
esmen whisperingly asked each other, What if the Pacific
States were to waver in their loyalty to the Union? Their
ed position was for the first time keenly felt, and thus
necessity of binding California closely to the North by iron
s laid across the continent, became the highest card held
those who made it their business to agitate for a Pacific |
iilroad. Again the question came prominently before Con-
OL I. R
242 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
gress ; but, before watching the result of this political conthy
at Washington in 1862, we must glance for a moment at
hands of the players. i
California held some great cards. The production of g¥
had been enormous; agriculture had developed into ¥
interest rivalling that of mining; cereals were raised j
quantities far exceeding the local demand; southern Cajl
fornia had added grape culture to stock raising, and was
striving to export wine as well as hides and tallow; trade
from the mines of Almaden, and the strong desire felt by the
Californians for a Pacific Railroad was brought to a climax by q
the discovery that a practicable route across the snow-clad—
sierra did exist through Donner Pass, midway between San =
Francisco and Virginia City. Some of the richest merchants —
pledged their entire fortunes to the scheme ; the State Legis- 4
lature liberally gave its sanction and aid; and it only re- 1
mained for Congress to grant a fitting salisidy. Nevada had —
one high trump card to play in support of California. The 7
Comstock lode had been discovered, and the wealth of silver —
which poured from it had already raised that Territory into —
the council of the States.
Chicago and the north-west backed by New York, anih
St. Louis and the middle States supported by Philadelphia,
carried with them to Congress most powerful but antagonisti¢
influences. The railways of the eastern States and their
prolongations westward may be said to form two separate
railway systems, the one having Chicago in the north-west a8
its western terminus, the other St. Louis, the most central
= point in the Mississippi valley. The capitalists of both these
es see fully alive to the — of directing the Pacific
CONTEST AT WASHINGTON. 243
fade through their own commercial centres, came forward
: ‘Ager for the contest which would bring so much triumph
pd profit to the winning side. The men of Chicago urged
at they had already projected three lines across the State of
fowa to meet at Council Bluffs (Omaha), where they were
bidging the muddy Missouri; that from this point to the
ocky Mountains, Nature news had graded a line for them
ip to the very summit of the continental watershed, that
ere only a few hills had to be crossed, that another 000
F les would take them to the great Mormon settlement at
alt Lake, and that their Californian friends assured them
that the Sierra Nevada might be crossed at the back of
Virginia City, and San Francisco reached, — any in-
urmountable difficulty.
St. Louis, on the other hand, pleaded that she- had
ed from words to deeds; that lines westward had not
been projected but built; that the Missouri Pacific
road, commenced in 1857 with aid from the State, already
an p etraight as an arrow westward across Missouri to Kansas
Jity ; and that, lastly, as Kansas (not Nebraska) was the
literranean”’ State, and St. Louis more central than
cago, Kansas City and not Council Bluffs, should be the
ng-point of the grand route westward. Money was
t like water in the contest. I remember seeing it stated
American journal that one company alone “employed
element of influence” to the extent of three millions
ollars. The civil war was hotly raging on all sides,
the whole nation was in a ferment. Five hundred
pounds sterling were leaving the treasury daily
meet the current expenses of the Northern armies ; even
1eton was threatened, but for all that the Pacific
‘Bill was carried triumphantly. Grants of land
R 2
SS
2
244 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
and a large subsidy, increasing in amount as the |
advanced westward, were granted, but no definite ci
clusion was arrived at as to the eastern starting-poin
the route. The great precedent, however, was establishec i
that Government aid, to the extent of about half the tq
amount necessary, would be provided out of the natio;
treasury to assist a Pacific Railroad enterprise. 3B il
succeeded each other in rapid succession, and party contests
raged hotly at every session; until, finally, the follow
programme was definitely adopted: and the undertaking wai
actually commenced.
The main line was to extend from Omaha on the Missourt
River to Sacramento, in California, 1,721 miles. St. Louis
was to be provided for by a deaidided branch line to connect
were to prosecute these works, and to stand on an eq al
es as — land grants, loans, Sisal &e. |
the line ‘wnat from Omaha. 4 ;
Second: the Central Pacific Railway of California, pro-
ceeding eastward from Sacramento. These companies were |
and to meet at an intermediate point not fixed. Thus it was
to the advantage of each to lay as much track as possible ; for ~
the amount of Government subsidy, as well as the share %
managemental influence, depended upon the proportion of :
line laid. |
_ Third: the Union Pacific Railway Company (Eastern Divi- |
: sion) obtained the Government subsidy for a distance of 400
2 = west of Kansas City. Thus it is evident that Chicage
— had poe the day. If the civil war had not intervened :
GOVERNMENT GRANT. 245
ink it more than probable that although 1869 might not
a ve seen the locomotive plying between New York and the
i, ific, we should never have had an iron road laid across
te Black Hills. Chicago would have built the branch line,
‘ d the main trunk would have been laid farther south, below
‘he barrier of winter snows ; it would have passed round the
ocky Mountains, not over them; across productive valleys,
nstead of through worthless deserts; and along the rich
entral trough of California, instead of climbing an alpine
lass more than 7,000 feet above the Pacific.
_ The chief clauses of the Government grant are these :—
; Congress confers upon the three companies mentioned the
ight of way through all its territories, an absolute grant of
2,800 acres per mile of the public lands through which the
ads run; 7.c., alternate sections of one by twenty miles on
ack side of the line; the right to use the coal, iron, timber,
c .. thereon ; and authorises a special issue of United States’
ionds, bearing 6 per cent. interest, proportionate in amount
0 the length and difficulty of the lines, to be delivered to
he companies as the works progress; and, as short sections
f the road (usually twenty-mile sections) are passed by the
ernment inspectors as being satisfactorily completed.
1e distance from Omaha to Sacramento is 1,721 miles ;
the grants of bonds are as follows :—
etween the Missouri and the eastern base of the Rocky
ains (525 miles), 16,000 dollars per mile ; Rocky
mtain section (150 miles), 48,000 dollars per mile ; Salt
section (900 miles), 32,000 dollars per mile ; Sierra
ada section (150 miles), 48,000 dollars per mile. Total
in bonds, about 50,000,000 dollars. The Kansas branch
ved a subsidy of 16,000 dollars per mile for 381 miles ;
other short branches were similarly subsidised.
246 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
The time of maturity for these bonds is placed at thiff
years after date of issue. They are made subordinat¢,
standing in the position of a second mortgage—to the bog
issued by the companies, under the following importyal
restrictions, viz.: That the railroads and telegraph lines {he
kept in proper repair; that the companies shall always give
Government dispatches, munitions of war, &c., the prefer-
ence when required, and shall not charge higher rates for
their transmission than are paid by private parties for like
services ; that all compensation for services rendered to the
Government shall be applied to the payment of said bonds and
interest until the whole amount is fully paid; and that at
least 5 per cent. additional of the net earnings of the
railroads shall also be annually applied to the liquidation of
the Government bonds as soon as the roads are completed. }
The Californian Company, on consideration of the natural 7
obstacles to be surmounted, were allowed to retain during q
construction one-half of the compensation for services rel- —
dered to the Government. q
Mortgages, equal in amount to the subsidies, were autho- q
rised to be issued from time to time as first mortgage bonds, —
bearing the same date, time of maturity, and rate of interest |
as those loaned by the Government. A small amount of
capital stock was subscribed in each case. Thus the two —
railway companies which have just completed the Salt Lake —
line state their construction resources as follows :—
UNION PACIFIC RAILROAD.
CONSTRUCTION AND EQUIPMENT RESOURCES FOR 1,100 MILES OF RAILROAD.
s : ai
United States’ Bonds. . . , . , 29,328,000
First Mortgage Bondi. =. 29,828,000
Wel i 13,243,000
we Ce TE, 899,000
FINANCIAL RESOURCES. 247
I have purposely omitted the land grant of 14,080,000
es, as it is not immediately available for income.
CENTRAL PACIFICO OF CALIFORNIA.
CONSTRUCTION AND EQUIPMENT RESOURCES FOR 726 MILES.
Dollars.
Donations (without lien) . ‘ é ‘ - 11,225,000
Capital stock 5 ‘ 8,000,000
Net earnings to 1867 1,520,235
Bonds (State guarantee) 3,000,000
First Mortgage Bonds ‘ ‘ . 25,517,000
United States’ Bonds . 5 : ; ; . 26,617,000
otal <2: = : j ‘ . 74,779,235
Fourteen million dollars of this sum represent the libe-
ity of the State of California and its wealthy citizens, and
an additional source of revenue for which the eastern
pany has no equivalent.
These sums are far more than sufficient to carry out
work according to the American system; but neither
pany will either require or call up all this: “capital, for
lay claim to building a greater mileage of Toad: than the
| length requires. They met on the 11th of “May. about
meridian of Salt Lake; thus giving 726. miles to the
em company, and 995 to the eastern, —~
CHAPTER II.
THE OMAHA LINE (UNION PACIFIC AND CENTRAL PACIFIC
CALIFORNIA).
Tux Union Pacific Railroad runs through the Platte valley from :
Omaha to Julesburg (377 miles), and that of Lodge Pole Creek
(a tributary) to the foot of the Black Hills, about 160 miles |
farther. Of these 537 miles, only the first 150 pass through
land susceptible of cultivation. But one-fifth of Nebraska cal |
be cultivated without irrigation, and the remainder cannot be
irrigated because the scanty streams which traverse it are ,
useless for that purpose. Beyond the limits between long. |
98° and 99°, where the rain-fall is insufficient to raise crops,
good grazing lands extend for about 100 miles, when We
gradually enter a region so parched and barren that it cat
scarcely support a meagre covering of stunted grass. Three 7
hundred miles of this arid region have to be crossed before ~
the traveller, having imperceptibly ascended the slope of the )
continent to an elevation of 6,500 feet to the foot of the |
Black Hills, finds the pasturage improve, from its close ,
proximity to the mountains. But as the Black Hills are low, —
they do not cause sufficient rain-fall to enable the farmer t
settle on their eastern slopes. For 500 miles scarcely a tree —
is to be seen. The River Platte presents to the eye, at most
seasons of the year, a vast expanse of sandy bed, often on®
mile wide, with a few trickling streams meandering like
silver threads around innumerable sand-banks and islands,
_ Some few of which are covered with cotton-wood trees. These
SKETCH OF THE ROUTE. 249
‘®eautiful clumps of foliage are soon left behind, and nothing
.femains to break the monotony of the undulating plains but
othe bluffs or cliffs which mark the edge between the sunken
) valley and the parched plateau beyond.
| In the Black Hills some fine views of timbered country
fare obtained, and the dividing ridge is crossed with ease at
an elevation of 8,262 feet, no grade being higher than ninety
feet, and this only for a short distance. The Laramie plains
are then crossed. They form, for the most part, a level upland
plateau, exceeding an elevation of 7,000 feet. They are
covered with good pasturage, particularly along the courses of
the streams. During the short summer which exists here
the ranche-men have found it possible to raise some garden
vegetables; but even oats, although they come up well and
form capital fodder, will not ripen. These plains are bounded
on the west by a broad undulation, or range, forming the
continental water-parting. No engineering difficulties occur
here, and the Pacific slope is reached without a tunnel or any
grades steeper than 75 feet per mile, which it is necessary to
resort to for a short distance. One hundred and forty miles
E Separate the Black Hills from this summit.
_ North of the Laramie plains lies the Sweet-water mining
trict, which is now attracting thousands of gold-diggers.
South of it lie the gold-fields of Colorado, many of which are
ipplied at the present time with nearly all the necessaries of
e from Cheyenne,—the Denver of these northern mining
districts. :
The sterility of these regions is not an unmitigated evil to
Yailroad which crosses them ; for the miners, whose wants
are very great, require all the necessaries and many of the
luxuries of life to be carried to them by rail. A non-pro-
ducing population—say of 1,000 miners—as well on account
250 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
of their migratory habits as their many requirements,
larger source of revenue to a railroad than six times
population dependent upon agriculture, even if we disre
altogether the transportation of ores, an item often eu
greatest importance. 2
After crossing the continental water-parting through a ae |
at Benton (near Bridger’s Pass)—elevation, 7,534 feet—the ’
railroad leaves the Rocky Mountains and traverses the Bitter-—
Creek country ; crosses Green River, the main tributary of |
the Rio Colorado of the West; and reaches the foot of the
Wahsatch Mountains. This country, 200 miles wide, 1s
fairly represented by Mr. Stansbury, who accurately surveyed —
it, as consisting of ‘‘ Artemisian barrens, with some pasturage
on the streams.” The water is bitter, sulphurous, or strongly ©
saline ; the earth is for the most part bare and rugged, show- |
ing the wear and tear of ages, and the cracks and fissures of ©
the more recent water-courses. A more forsaken region a
never saw.
The Wahsacht belt of mountains is sixty miles across, and
the dividing ridge which separates the waters of Green
River, which flow into the Californian Gulf, from the tribu-
taries of Great Salt Lake, is crossed within the first twenty
miles, without any heavy grades, at an elevation of 7,567
feet. Nature has herself cut a path through the remaining
forty miles of mountain by means of two fine gorges, Echo
and Weber caiions. Without the intervention of these extra-
ordinary natural passes, the Wahsatch Mountains would have
formed an insurmountable barrier to a railroad. The railroad
thus reaches the shore of Great Salt Lake, thirty miles north
of the Mormon city. It does not pass through this tow,
but turns northward around the lake, and then, bending
= ty — the Salt Lake Basin and enters that of the
THE DESERT PORTION. 251
Mumboldt; the rim separating these basins being here but
5360 feet aes the Lake.*
‘The inland or Great Basin region of North Adc extends
om the dividing ridge of the Wahsatch Mountains to the
Summit of the Sierra Nevada, 721 miles by the railroad. It
is a vast desert, considerably larger than France, covered with
hort volcanic mountain ranges; it possesses a fertile soil, but
suffers from an insufficient rain-fall ; none of its scanty streams
enter the sea, but each discharges its waters into a little lake
ad remains shut up within its own independent basin. Rich
silver mines are being discovered, year by year, all over the
sin region, and the yield from them already equals in value
that of the gold-fields of California. It contains three towns,
alt Lake City, Austin, and Virginia City; the railway
‘ asses within thirty-five miles of the first, 100 miles of the
4 ond, and sixteen only of the last.
_ The railroad follows the valley of the Humboldt River,
rom Humboldt Wells, north-west of Great Salt Lake, where
t rises, to Humboldt Lake, not far distant from its “ sink”
(as ance 280 miles), and reaches the base of the Sierra
Nevada 100 miles farther westward.
From the Truckee River, elevation 5,866 feet, to the sum-
of the sierra, the distance is fourteen miles, and the
nt 1,176 feet, making an average grade of 84 feet per
. From the summit, elevation 7,042 feet, to Colfax, on
western side of the range, the distance is fifty-one miles,
the descent 4,594 feet, or an average grade of over 90
per mile. In fact, the Central Pacific Railroad, starting
the Sacramento, only 56 feet above the level of the sea,
s the summit of a mountain ridge exceeding 7,000 feet
05 miles. Here all the engineering difficulties of the
: * Elevation of Great Salt Lake, 4,290 feet.
252 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
line centre. Most of the heavy grading averages 95 Teel
per mile; for three and a half miles only is 116 feet, th
maximum grade allowed by Congress, resorted to; there a e
thirteen short tunnels, making altogether a fenigeth of 6,262
feet. The longest is 1,700 feet. It is a very hard straim
upon two powerful engines to drag ten passengers’ cars with
luggage up so steep an ascent, and the carriage of heavy
freight is necessarily costly. :
This bold undertaking has been carried out with an amou ount.
of energy beyond all praise. The road has been built, not
by a staff formed of scientific engineers—they might have
shrunk from so reckless a venture—but by a few go- -ahead
merchants of San Francisco, who left their counting-houses -
to become railway contractors. All last summer ten thousand
Chinamen and about three thousand teams, were employed to
grade and lay the track across the basin region. During the :
previous winter I saw them transporting long lines of sledge, _
laden with iron rails and ties, across the summit to the valley —
of the Truckee and the Humboldt. When the snow had —
sufficiently thawed to enable them to complete the tunnels, a0 —
average of 500 tons of ties, rails, spikes, bolts, and chairs —
were carried over the sierra, in fifty cars drawn by ten -
locomotives every day, and were sent from 300 to 400
miles to the scene of operations. Here two miles, and
sometimes more, were laid per day, and each two miles
required 500 tons of material for its construction. The rails
usually weigh from 56 Ibs. to 64 Ibs. per yard.
For thirty miles across the mountains the snows of winter
presented an obstacle which at first seemed to be insurmount-
able, but these Californians would not give in; they have
covered the line with strong wooden sheds over the entire
__ distance in which snows are likely to stop the traffic, and had
RAPIDITY OF CONSTRUCTION. 253
‘gmpleted twenty miles of roofing on the Ist of January
‘ais year. It is hard, after so much has been done, to be
iged to pronounce this summit railway a mistake. Yet
here is no question about it. Had the Sierra Nevada been
More thoroughly examined before this gigantic enterprise was
ndertaken, Beckworth’s Pass—thirty miles to the north,
nd only 4,500 feet in height—would most certainly have
een adopted. So expensive is it to carry freight up such
steep grades for so great a distance, that although the Central
vacific Company at present ignore the Beckworth route,
hey will be obliged ultimately to adopt it if the freight traffic
t all equals their expectations. Although the engineering
lifficulties upon other points of the Pacific Railroad are not
reat, yet the rapidity with which the work has been
1c omplished is marvellous. It was not until January, 1866,
hat the first forty miles of railroad were laid down from
Omaha; in January, 1867, 305 miles were completed; and
January, 1868, 540. In the meantime the Californian
npany were hard at work tunneling, and had only ninety-
miles open to business on the 1st of January last year.
uring 1868, 866 miles were added to the railway by the
Ae ae
; Sas aren
a
rs is
ds a day, Sundays excluded, and the remaining 346 miles
completed in 107 days more. In the history of railway
action this rapidity has no precedent ; and when it is
mhered that for 1,600 miles wood for ties could only be
ned at three points accessible to the road, and also that
country is mostly an uninhabited desert, the result
s even yet more marvellous. The following quota-
1 explains, in true American style, how the track is
‘One can see all along the line of the now completed road
254 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
the evidences of ingenious self-protection and defence which |
our men learned during the war. The same curious huts and
underground dwellings which were a common sight along our
army lines then, may now be seen burrowed into the sides of
the hills, or built up with ready adaptability in sheltered
spots. The whole organisation of the force engaged in the
construction of the road is, in fact, semi-military. The men
who go ahead, locating the road, are the advance guard.
Following these is the second line, cutting through the 4
gorges, grading the road, and building bridges. Then comes-
the main line of the army, placing the sleepers, laying the |
track, spiking down the rails, perfecting the alignment, %
ballasting the rail, and dressing up and completing the road ©
for immediate use. This army of workers has its base, to 1
continue the figure, at Omaha, Chicago, and still farther |
eastward, from whose markets are collected the material for —
constructing the road. Along the line of the completed road
are construction trains constantly ‘pushing forward to the —
front’ with supplies. The company’s grounds and workshops
at Omaha are the arsenal, where these purchases, amounting
now to millions of dollars in value, are collected and held
ready to be sent forward. The advanced limit of the rail is
occupied by a train of long box cars, with hammocks swung |
under them, beds spread on top of them, bunks built within
them, in which the sturdy, broad-shouldered pioneers of the
great iron highway sleep at night and take theis meals.
Close behind this train come loads of ties and rails and
spikes, &c., which are being thundered off upon the roadside,
to be ready for the track-layers. The road is graded a hundred
miles in advance. The ties are laid roughly in place, then
_ adjusted, gauged, and levelled. Then the track is laid.
_ “Track-laying on the Union Pacific is a science, and we
LAYING THE TRACK. 255
Ward before that hurrying corps of slivdy operatives with
Mingled feelings of amusement, curiosity, and profound respect.
jOn they came. A light car, drawn by a single horse, gallops
Fup to the front with its load of rails. 'Twomen seize the end
i . At the word of command the rail is dropped in_ its
place, right side up, with care, while the same process goes on
at the other side of the cdr. Less than thirty seconds to a
rail for each gang, and so four rails go down to the minute !
Quick work, you say, but the fellows on the U. P. are
‘tremendously in earnest. The moment the car is empty it is
tipped over on the side of the track to let the next loaded car
Pass it, and then it is tipped back again; and it is a sight to
See it go flying back for another load, propelled by a horse at_
full gallop at the end of 60 or 80 feet of rope, ridden by a
young Jehu, who drives furiously. Close behind the first
" gang come the gaugers, spikers, and bolters, and a lively time
they make of it. It is a grand Anvil Chorus that those
sturdy sledges are playing across the plains. It is in triple
time, three strokes to a spike. There are ten spikes to a rail,
four hundred rails to a mile, eighteen hundred miles to San
rancisco. That’s the sum, what is the quotient? Twenty-
€ million times are those sledges to be swung—twenty-one
million times are they to come down with their sharp punc-
tuation, before the great work of modern America is com-
lete!” (See title-page, vol. i.)
Passing over all other collateral subjects, I must mention
hat an abundance of coal, sufficiently good to be burned by
the locomotive, has been discovered in several localities near
256 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
the railroad, viz., in the Black Hills, 550 miles from oma
near Bridger’s Pass, 130 miles farther west ; on Bitter Creek,
and some other branches of Green River; and lastly, some |
fine deposits are now being mined in Echo Cafion. None has |
been found between Great Salt Lake and the Pacific coast. —
It has long been the opinion, however, of many railroad #
men in the States, that this great national highway should ”
not have been constructed along the 41st parallel at all; and
they have anxiously awaited the results of last winter's §
experience to prove or disprove the truth of their fore- |
bodings. The Senate Committee, in their Report just issued ™
on the Pacific railways, say that “It is an undetermined
problem if the Union Pacific Railroad between Omaha and §
Sacramento can be operated (7c. ‘ worked’) throughout the {
year. Of the elements to solve this question there are? ©
First, the known effects of drifting snow upon the railway \
lines of Central Illinois, and the hilly districts of New ;
England and Pennsylvania; second, the known depths to |
which snow falls and packs in portions of the Rocky Mountain |
region ; third, the extraordinary height of the grades, and
sharpness of the curves, in the passage of the Sierra Nevada.
Railroad communication in Massachusetts, New York, and
Pennsylvania, is often suspended in winter. These vicissi- |
tudes take place in States where labour is abundant, where
the stations on the lines are very near together, where fuel
and food, draught animals and tools, are plentiful and
accessible. But the line between Omaha and Sacramento 1s
at present almost a continuous wilderness—portions of it
never will be settled; population is scarce ; help in trouble,
beyond that of the passengers and ae yés on the train,
cannot be had ; the stock of accessible fuel may be limited to
- a supply on the cars. If such interruptions should take
1
SNOW BLOCKADES. 257
i
ace, their effect upon the new trade from Asia to Europe
Ae ross the United States, would be very damaging; they
WW ould characterise the route as one not to be relied on for
@ternational commerce.”
) It is comparatively easy to roof the line across a snow-belt
f thirty miles through the Sierra Nevada, where timber is
abundant ; it is impossible to cover 300 miles of rail in
the Rocky Mountains, where timber is either entirely absent
mr very scarce. As I remarked in a preceding chapter, I
ould not proceed eastward by the Platte route in March,
1868, even from Cheyenne City, on the plains, and was
obliged to proceed southward by Denver, and strike the
K ansas Pacific. The latest accounts from America confirm
the gravest doubts of the Senate committee. |
’ Last February there was a snow blockade for twenty days
at Cheyenne, and on the Laramie plains traffic was completely
stopped for five weeks, so that orders had to be given for all
mails from New York to San Francisco to be sent for the
tim e round by Panama.
_ Can anything be much more miserable than to 2 snowed
‘ ip for a month in the Bitter Creek country? Yet this did
0 cur as late as last March; fifty of the passengers arrived
| Laramie Station, after walkie ninety miles through the
ws, at an elevation of over 7,000 feet above the sea ; 150
sengers were left behind, and had not been rescued at the
e I received the above information, although on April
Ist through traffic had not been resumed.
ty
CHAPTER III.
THE KANSAS PACIFIC RATLWAY.
THE more advanced of the two Pacific railroads yet to be
described is that which passes through districts already made -
known’ to my readers in previous chapters; it is therefore —
unnecessary for me to go over the ground a second time.
The Kansas Pacific Company has completed more than 400 —
_ miles of road, reaching to the borders of Colorado, and expects
to complete its branch through Denver to the Omaha line, 2 ~
distance of 321 miles farther, within the present year.
In the meantime, the Southern Pacific of California, which
stands in the same relation to the Kansas Pacific as the
Central Pacific of California does to the Union Pacific (or the
Omaha line), had laid eighty miles of road in March, ’69, and
is fast “locating ” a farther section, which is to pass through
the Panoche Pass, in the coast range, into the Tulare valley,
and west of Tulare Lake to Tehachapa Pass, in the Sierra
Nevada.
The Report of all the surveys referred to in this book
has just been published, and now lies open before me, form-
ing a small volume of 250 pages; not written in the high-
flown, exaggerated manner of too many documents of a similar
nature. which we yearly receive from America, but full of in-
formation, which, although usually too condensed, is forcibly
put and justly represented.
2 So extensive a surveying expedition was probably never
THE TWO ROUTES COMPARED. eed
Mrganised. The total length of routes accurately chained,
svelled, and surveyed by instruments, is no less than 4,464
niles; and a considerable distance more was examined,
nd the various elevations barometrically obtained. These
| UNION PACIFIC RAILWAY. KANSAS PACIFIC RAILWAY.
Dis- | Eleva-| Eleva-| Dis-
tances. tions. || tions. | tances.
Miles. | Feet. || Feet. | Miles.
— —s at Omuha ...... 968 || 543 Missouri River at Kansas City
290 | 2,830 |/3,725 | 525 | Arkaisas River at Fort Lyon | & .
Foot of Black Hills .....-..s...++- 228 | 7,040 || 4,266 | 50 | Mouth of Chequaco Valley ... $2
Evans? Pass .o...ccscecsscescsssses 81 |8,242 ||6,166 | 40 | Cimarron Pass (Raton Mins.) Ee
5,634 | 64 | Red River
76 | Los Vi
80 | 7,175 | 5,406 | 26 | Rio Pecos FI x
dausledaueaeeseee 7,560 || 6,917 | 30 — IANO PAGE occcsleroon -s
EM ret Neecnra ste 54 | 6,695 || 5,000 el Norte............ ) 2”
SR te 9S eh 23 | 7,534 || 7,177 (Campbell’s)
4,748
5,241 | 39
3,473 | 61
127 | 4,290 |/1,900 | 10
130 | 5,650 ||2,375 | 25
283 | 4,047 /|3,080 | 65
123 | 7,042 || 4,008 | 15
105 56 | 700
2,100 | 15
124 l
OS ae econ
CENTRAL PACIFIC OF CALIFORNIA. SOUTHERN PACIFIC OF CALIFORNIA.
ei ee
eine Hie cebarenesten sc 1,846 miles, Total distance.........sseeeresersseeees 2,026 miles.
Retween New York and San Fran-
avbbestaliewocet 3,300 miles. ci s] easiest route
by Ooo alee taneseee 3,252 miles.
xplorations were conducted, be it remembered, mostly
‘rough a country inhabited by hostile Indians; every party
ad to to be guarded whilst at. oe caval and
82
260 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
every surveyor carried his firearms by his side, andj his
surveying instruments in his hands. 4
The results of these surveys are most encouraging, } and
prove conclusively that a railroad can be made, unitin Ste :
Louis with San Francisco, along the 35th parallel of latitude, j |
which shall form a shorter route between New York Har-’
bour and San Francisco than that vid Salt Lake. Nota tunnel
is required throughout the entire distance ; and although the ©
ascents and descents are many, the grades are never of neces- | |
sity steep. Obstruction from snow is unknown; and the |
Sierra Nevada, instead of requiring thirteen tunnels, and |
grades varying from 95 to 116 feet per mile, is crossed at an
elevation of 4;008 feet without any ascent steeper than half |
the latter grade. The two routes can easily be compared by |
means of the table on the preceding page.
Each line, although usually separated from its rival by 2
belt of country ranging from two to six and a half degrees
in width, passes across corresponding river-basins, ranges,
and streams; the basin of the Rio Grande del Norte, which
does not extend as far north as the Salt Lake line, being the
only exception. 3
Eastern Kansas, Western Kansas, the valleys of the
Arkansas, Purgatoire, Red River, and Rio Grande del Norte
have all been described ; the country along the 35th parallel,
the beautiful districts about the San Francisco peaks, and the
arid desert between the Rio Colorado and the Sierra Nevada
have also been mentioned in detail; and the mineral wealth
of New Mexico, Arizona, and California have not been alto-
gether passed over. The conclusion I have arrived at 1s
similar to that which Mr. Davis has stated in his report for
1856, viz., that “a much larger area of cultivatable lands, and
. a greater besueney and extent of forest growth, exist between
ae
THE COUNTRY ALONG LAT. 38°. 261
4 Personally, I have no interest whatever in railway enter-
P prises in America; yet, for fear of being considered unjustly
partial, I almost think I have under-coloured rather than
otherwise the natural resources of this tract of country ; and
as my friend General Palmer is quite incapable of any
attempt at exaggeration in these particulars, I will give the
deductions he has arrived at in his own words :-—
“To sum up this subject, it may be said :—
_ “Ist. That while the western half of the continent is not
- an agricultural Paradise, yet, certainly on this route, it is far
from being a desert, as many have supposed. That it has
_ been shown to be almost continuously inhabitable, and that
there are frequent and extensive districts of great attrac-
tion to the farmer; while to the grazier, except in the
Great Basin, it presents one vast, uninterrupted belt of
uniformly superior pasturage, extending from Kansas to the
_ Pacific Ocean, on which horses, mules, cattle, and sheep can
f be raised in countless herds, as cheaply, perhaps, as anywhere
» in the world.
“2nd. That the mildness of the climate on this parallel
| a greatly enhances the value both of its arable and pastoral
; Ee resources, enabling more than one crop to be raised in a
| season, permitting stock, without care, to fare as well in
| winter as summer, and adding the vine, cotton, and other
| E semi-tropical fruits or products to’ those of our temperate
. latitudes. On the survey, we drove our beef cattle along in
_ the winter season, and always found for them and for the
: -Taules of our trains abundant nutritious grazing, on the highest
summits of the line equally with the deepest valleys.
262 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
“3rd. That although, for nearly the whole of this distance, |
irrigation is resorted to, yet, by more thorough cultivation, it
is likely that, at many points, this will not be required. |
Besides, irrigation is not necessarily a drawback, since it —
enables the farmer, to a great extent, to be independent of ‘
the seasons, serves to enrich his grounds by the constant sedi-
ment with which the water is charged, and, with a properly ;
organised plan, is not costly; while the crops are made to :
yield much more bountifully, as a general thing, than in the 4
Mississippi valley. The quality of the wheat grown in these —
elevated valleys and dry atmosphere is most highly prized, |
especially for transportation. E
“Lastly. That the hills and mountains over this extended
range contain an amount of mineral wealth of all kinds, the
useful as well as the precious, which may be considered
practically inexhaustible. Furthermore, that these sub-
terranean treasures are not confined to a few localities far
apart, but have a remarkable diffusion along the route.
Indeed, from the Arkansas River to the western spurs of the |
coast range, near San Francisco, a distance of 1,500 mules, |
the mountains, which are never out of sight, may almost be
said to possess continuous deposits of one kind or another of
valuable minerals, which, beginning with the coal and iron of
Colorado, end only with the quicksilver of New Almaden.
When it is remembered how little and how carelessly this
vast territory, the home of savage Indians, has been explored
by white men, and that, even in the small and old-settled
district of Cornwall, where mining was carried on before the
Christian era, and where the earth has been burrowed for ages
at a great depth, new discoveries are still made of tin and
copper lodes, we may well wonder at the amount of hidden
ea ao: which the few disclosures already made would
CHAPTER IV.
3 THE NORTHERN PACIFIC RAILWAY.
, q Ir is quite impossible to weigh the advantages held out by
_ the Northern Pacific route without becoming a convert to the
scheme. By making use of the Great Lake system of the
continent and the rivers which flow east and west above
the meridian of New York, it would be possible to pass from
that city to Portland on the Pacific, 3,205 miles, by steam-
boat for 2,480 miles, and by rail for the remaining 825.
The object of the Northern Pacific Railroad is not only to
develop the country through which it passes, but to unite
the following great steamboat routes with one another :—
Ist. The Great Lakes at the western end of Lake Superior.
2nd. Steam navigation on the Mississippi by a short
branch to St. Paul. : :
. 8rd. Steam navigation on the Missouri at Fort Clarke and
Fort Benton.
4th. The Columbian River, from the falls of which one
branch is to continue onward to Portland at ite mouth,
another to deflect northward to Seattle, in Puget Sound.
| Here the advocates of this route say that they are nearly
- 500 miles nearer to Shanghae than at San Francisco, and that
- the distances to the ports of Japan, Northern China, and the
- Amoor are still more in their fayour. :
264 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
The following table gives the elevations and distances :—
THE NORTHERN PACIFIC RAILWAY.
—— =
Lake Superior see 600 et
z Dividing Summit 32 1,158
& = Mississippi River lll 1,152 )
«| Po Bigiateus dea S ertit, asvsvccnccecovicessssctveas 177 1,419
40 Red River 232 985
“ee Plateau du Coteau du Missouri. Wcusbete lene 365 2,400 =
40 Missouri River 485 1,800
ie Dividing Summit 625 2,500
40 Yellow Stone River 675, 2,100
30 Point of Judeth Mountain ............:0:s0000000- 936 3,495 |
70 Cadott’s Pass* 1,115 5,337
70 AWB iy cas say av cerescenvccseweaveasvessse 1,225 2,410 71
40 Pend @Oreille Lake 2,020
30 Summit 1,405 2,620
30 - | Spokane River 1,405 1,720 sae
40 Summit ....: 1,425 0 <3
40 Columbia River 1,535 430
1,155
40 Columbia River 1,535 438 |}
50 Snoqualmie Pass 1,694 3,325
90 Base of Mountains 1, 175
Seattle 1,775 t Puget Sound.
Mean elevation above the sea c.ccccccecsececeee a 2,215
istance, in miles from New York, vid Great Lakes to Portland, 3,285 miles.
Mean annual temperature, 50° Fah
As I have never traversed the route proposed for this rail-
way, I extract the following quotation from the Report already
referred to of the Senate Committee on Pacific Railroads, dated
February 19th, 1869, as I presume no better authority aoe
be obtained.
“There are between Lake Superior and Puget Sound and
the mouth of the Columbia River 500,000 square miles of
__ territory, upon the larger portion of edits the United States’
- Government can — ss wealth, and power, like
* (Ree ede aretahe
ade eer ink, Mane a
poe as 24 miles long.
RESOURCES OF THE NORTHERN ROUTE. 265
that of Hlinois. It is the winter-wheat region of this conti-
nent. It is a region of alternate prairies and pine forests.
Tt is a region rich in coal, iron, gold, silver, and copper. It
. $s a region the salubrity of whose climate has made it the
Sanatarium for consumptives from the Atlantic slopes. It is
a region whose Rocky Mountain section, broken down in its
en 80 as to be passable by loaded ponies, is blessed
with a temperature so mild that countless herds of cattle
Tange and fatten through the winter upon the natural grasses
within ten miles of the summit of the continental water-
: parting. It is a region in all whose valleys peaches, apples,
_ pears, plums, cherries, grapes, and sweet potatoes have rapid
_ growth and complete maturity. It is a region so rich in grass,
| and so blessed in climate, that it has ever been the home, in
_ winter as well as summer, of the buffalo, the elk, and the
antelope. It has timber, water-power, and stone. It has a
population of 1,410,000 people. Illinois possessed no such
endowments. Her inheritance, so amazingly developed by
Tailroads, was a garden soil, deeply underlaid with a thin
| seam of coal and a deposit of friable sandstone. She had
; nothing else. But every element of wealth, every condition
| of social growth and prosperity exist in superabundance and
, beyond exhaustion in the territory between Lake Superior
| and Puget Sound. For this immense region, embracing
j Minnesota, Dakota, Montana, Idaho, Oregon, Washington,
) and a part of Wisconsin, railroads can do more than they have
done for Illinois.”
_ The statement made in the aboye quotation as to climate
_ may appear strange to those who are unacquainted with the
great bend northward which the isothermal lines make west of
_ the Mississippi. The winters are long and severe in Min-
nesota, but a little farther west, the proposed railroad enters a
266 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA,
much warmer region. Half-way between Chicago and the
Pacific the same average temperature is found to exist in ’
latitude 50°, more than three degrees north of the proposed —
line, as is experienced eight degrees farther south in Illinois
and the regions east of that State. Hence the agricultural —
value of our Saskatchewan settlements. q
The northern line will always have to contend against one
great drawback, that is the closure of Lake Superior to traffic ‘
for seven out of twelve months every year. Neither this inland :
sea nor Lake Michigan become frozen over, but most of their ;
harbours, and especially their shallow entrances, are always —
rendered impassable for from five months in the lower basin, —
to seven, and sometimes eight, in the upper.
Whilst we are languidly considering whether it is or is not —
to our advantage to unite our Pacific and Atlantic North |
American colonies by a national railroad across Canada, the —
Americans will very probably settle the question for us in a
way which will not be altogether flattering to our national —
pride. On this subject the same Report observes :— |
‘The line of the North Pacific road runs for 1,500 miles |
near the British possessions, and, when built, will drain the —
agricultural products of the rich Saskatchewan and Red
River districts east of the mountains, and the gold country —
on the Fraser, Thompson, and Kootanie rivers west of the .
mountains. From China ( Canton) to Liverpool it is 1,500 —
miles nearer by the 49th parallel of latitude than by the way
of San Francisco and New York. This advantage, in securing
the overland trade from Asia, will not be thrown away by the
English, unless it is taken away by our first building the
North Pacific road, establishing mercantile agencies at Puget
ae Sound, fixing mercantile capital there, and getting possession,
on land and on the ocean, of all the machinery of the new
ANNEXATION. , 267
commerce between Asia 4nd Europe. The opening by us
first of a North Pacific railroad seals the destiny of the British
possessions west of the 91st meridian. They will become
so Americanised in interests and feeling that they will be in
effect severed from the new Dominion, and the question of
eir annexation will be but a question of time.”
CHAPTER V.
FUTURE PROSPECTS.
Witt the Pacific railroads pay ?
The traffic receipts, and the deductions to be drawn from
other considerations, lead us to believe that they will pay
well; we must, however, bear in mind that facts, as well as
figures, can be so represented as to prove almost anything im
cases such as these, and that time alone will show what
will be the fate of undertakings which have had as yet 10
precedents.
The Union Pacific Company thus states its earnings and
expenses for the year ending June 30th, 1868, on an average
length of 472 miles.
EARNINGS,
jlars.
Passengers . s ; e - 888,335
Freight . . . » . . . . 3,233,371
Express ‘ ‘ ‘ " 2 ‘. ‘ ; 30,955
l 8 * * . . . . * a . 66,800
Miscellaneous : ‘ ‘ : ; ‘ 26,579
4,246,040
EXPENSES.
: Dollars.
Conducting — : Ou : . 517,803
otive ‘: oo OTe
Maintenance of cars ond d ways a 1,040,688
General expenses SoS 149,255
2,684,757
Balance . : ‘ ‘ Z . 1,561,283
Interest on Ist Mortgage Bonds . . . . 631,680
- Government Bonds . . . . 481,200)
. . . > . 478,403
: Borie 2g
WILL THE PACIFIC RAILROADS PAY? 269
But here it certainly’appears that the transmission of
construction material over the road has been charged to the
item of freight, thus making the company itself the best
customer.
The local traffic between the State of California and the
interior mining towns of the Great Basin is already very
great, and likely to be enormous; the manufactures and
wares consumed in Oregon, Washington, Columbia, Idaho,
and Nevada, are ‘nearly all drawn thence ; and so rapidly are
_ the Pacific States and Territories increasing in population and
wealth, that three railroads across the Sierra Nevada would
80on have as much work as they could well take over a single
_ line of rails. The Central Pacific Company of California is
now demanding 10 cents per mile for passengers, and 15
cents per ton per mile for freight—charges which, paid in
_ gold, are too exorbitant long to be maintained.
__ The year’s business on the Kansas Pacific Road for 1868,
_ over an average length of 403 miles, stands thtus :—
EARNINGS. ons
From transportation . . : : . 1,910,161
‘ From land sales . Z . ‘ : ‘ . 256,205
2,165,366
EXPENSES.
eer pe
: : E a ‘ . e 720,000
| ; 1,756,494
: 408,872
| The operating expenses were equal to 54 per cent. of the
7 gross receipts. Although the transportation of construction
material may have been added in this case also, yet, as the
extension of the road westward was suspended, this item must
have been small. The 400 and odd miles of road opened
Surplus .
waste ls EN ge e g gaailrareaae
a
270 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
during these periods ended in both cases in the uninhabited —
wilds, and could scarcely have been expected to pay their
way at all. Yet the results are most encouraging. Now that
the line from San Francisco to Omaha is open throughout, we
shall soon learn the solution of the problem. Experience has
taught that, although the through traffic is generally most
relied upon in the establishment of a line, it is the local
traffic which proves in the end to be the most important.
Mile for mile, the local traffic must be small throughout
four-fifths of the distance between Omaha and San Francisco,
unless a large business is done in the transportation of ores; _
yet the through traffic ought, in this exceptional case, to
compensate fully for the deficiency. Fifteen hundred miles
of country separate a thriving population of thirty-two —
millions from an equally wealthy and flourishing community |
inhabiting California, as well as the great producing nations
of Asia—China and Japan.
Even the passenger traffic to and from the Pacific coast
must be enormous, and all will probably pay at least 6 cents
per mile (from 2d. to 3d.) upon the entire distance. If the
central line pays, the financial success of the southern one
is certain, for the local traffic will rapidly increase as the
comparatively fertile districts along the route become
colonised; the through traffic will at least be shared on
equal terms, and probably the absence of impediments from
winter snows will give the latter in the end a decided advan-
tage. The prospects of the northern route rest upon rather
different grounds, and cannot yet be fairly judged; politically,
it may be very desirable that the American Government
should subsidise this road also, for reasons already referred
to; and one fact is certain, that, whether these undertakings
are destined to pay at once, or after many years, they will
THE NEW BILL. 271
immediately be of infinite service to the Government, by
settling the Indian question, by adding to the taxable wealth
of the nation, and by increasing to an enormous extent the
yield of precious metals.
_ The Bill returned this spring to Congress from the Senate
Committee proposes, by its comprehensiveness, to dispose
y of the Pacific Railroad question. Its opponents call it
“ Pacific Omnibus Bill,” others stigmatise it as ‘the great
road job.” It seems, however, to an unprejudiced
} relation to the development of its vast territories, and forms
another convincing proof of the wonderful success obtained
y railroad extension as a means of colonization.
No less than seven railway companies are recommended for
ubsidy in the Bill, representing a combined length of rail-
road exceeding 4,570 miles.
Computed Miles.*
66 >
The Northern Pacific Railroad 1,770
The Atlantic and Pacific . : 640
The Little Rock and Fort Smith . 160
The Kansas Pacific -. «+ > 400
The United States’ Southern Pacific 650
The Southern Pacific of Californi . : . oe
The Oregon Branch of the Contral a ee
_ These, however, only represent different sections of the
| three great routes which have been described. The Atlantic
"and Pacific, and the Little Rock and Fort Smith are to form
| a continuous line, uniting the railways of the Southern States
with the trunk line of the 35th parallel, and to meet the
{ Kansas Pacific at a point east of the Rio Grande in New
| Mexico, where both are to unite their forees in building the
| United States’ Southern Pacific.
| Again, the Southern Pacific of California is to construct
* These distances are exclusive of any sections of line already built.
272 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
the trunk line from San Francisco and to meet the shore
about the Colorado River.
The Northern Pacific has at present no other company tal
share its task. The last line is a branch from the Hum-_
boldt valley to Portland, uniting Oregon with the Central
Pacific route; it does not, therefore, directly form pon of
any of the bas continental routes. j
One point of importance in the Bill is a change in the —
mode of granting the subsidy. Instead of issuing to the j
railway companies Government six-per-cent. bonds, varying —
in amount with the supposed difficulties of construction, the —
same system is proposed as we have adopted with our East
Indian railways, viz., a Government guarantee of six per —
cent. upon the capital stock of each company. Very strin-
gent measures are proposed in order to guard against the —
Government aid being misapplied, as well as to ensure prompt 1
payment of the interest.
If the Bill is carried, the Pacific and Western States, as
well as the Territories lying between them, will be provided
with a railway system so complete in itself that the develop-
ment of these enormous regions must proceed with a rapidity
never before witnessed. Five years is the time named for 7
the completion of all these railroads, and there is little doubt —
but that this short space is sufficient.
From two points of view, we as a nation, and, in fact, all
Europe, are immediately and closely interested in all these
railroad projects. In the first place, we are led to inquire
whether the main currents of trade between Europe and the
East—China, India, Japan, New Zealand, and Australia—
will be shifted into new channels. In the second place,
emigration will certainly be systematically encouraged upon
2. ae a scale that we are likely to lose no inconsiderable
: DIVERSION OF TRAFFIC. 273
‘Op ortion of our surplus labour. If these railway enterprises
e completed in five years, they will open almost as large a
Id for emigration as the discovery of a new continent with
mference equal to the combined length of the railroads
estion—4,644 miles; for, without highways for trans-
ion of produce, land is comparatively valueless to the
us first inquire to what extent the existing currents
opean traffic will be affected.
2 improvements now in progress along the present lines
travel between Europe and the East must be weighed
t the new routes across North America.
de between Europe and our Indian empire will not, of
, be affected. Our trade with China requires a little
eration. For quick passenger traffic, the completion of
railroad system across India will cause the following
id 7+ ~ :
er
London to Hong Kong . 39 days .- ee as days.
Pgh «8. a Ben pean eer
of the passenger traffic to China, therefore, will cer-
avoid the tropics and go by San Francisco. The
mers through the Suez Canal, and save a distance ex-
g 4,000 miles of sea. Very little traffic goes to China
Panama ; none will cross the American continent when the
z Canal is open to navigation. If the import duties at
ork were not so heavy, it is far more likely that the
ms oe
274 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERIOA.
Eastern States would continue to receive the silks and teas of
China from us, than that the latter should come to us
through them. {
Passenger traffic with Japan and New Zealand ‘ill pro-
bably be diverted into the new channel :— pe
Vid Marseilles and Vid New York and
Bombay. San Francisco.
London to Yokohama 5 SS MRS eS . 388 days.
Again, the shortest route to New Zealand is vid Panama;
but San Francisco is 700 miles nearer New Zealand than ;
Panama is, and already the line of steamers which did run
between Panama and New Zealand has been discontinued, ,
and a line from San Francisco established instead. We shall
be able, in fact, to go from London to Wellington in thats
seven days, thus :—
London to New York , : ‘: ;
New York to San Francisco . : : : * eee
San Francisco to Wellington . , Qt
Total 37
. ”»>
Our Australian goods traffic will not be affected, and but few
passengers will incur the increased expense of a long land
journey by crossing North America. |
CHAPTER VI.
EMIGRATION.
YHILST emigration is actually being opposed in some of our
wn colonies, the Americans are demanding with greater force
han ever more hands and more brains.
«“ “Tt can be shown by official records,” says the Report
efore mentioned, “that the Kansas Pacific, the Union Pacific,
A s, Colorado, Iowa, Nebraska, California, and Nevada.
a ‘in acta owes to the rapidity and cheapness of transporta-
ion m by rail her best immigrants—over 100,000 Germans,
egians, and Swedes. Every foreign labourer landing on
shores is economically valued at 1,500 dollars. He rarely
es empty-handed. The Superintendent of the Castle
a den (New York) Emigration Depét has stated that a
inquiry gave an average of 100 dollars, almost
ely in coin, as the money property of each man, woman,
child landed at New York. From 1830, the commence-
t of our railway building, to 1860, the number of foreign
grants was 4,787,924. At that ratio of coin-wealth pos-
ed by each, the total addition to the stock of money in the
nited States made by this increase to its population was
78,792,400 dollars. Well might Dr. Engel, the Prussian
Statistician, say—‘ Estimated in money, the Prussian State has .
during sixteen years, nd ate a sum of more than
276 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
180,000,000 thalers. It must be added that those who are
resolved to try their strength abroad are by no means our
weakest elements. Their continuous stream may be compared
to a well-equipped army, which, leaving the country annually,
is lost to it for ever. A ship loaded with emigrants is oft on
looked upon as an object of compassion. It is, nevertheless,
in a politico-economical point of view, generally more valuable
than the richest cargo of gold dust.’
“The Kansas Pacific Railway Company has organise
immigration to its lands. It has agents in Europe who tel
of the resources of Kansas, and induce people to seek a homé
law go together across the Continent; and in less than ten
years we shall see upon the lines of diss roads and their out-|
lets at least three millions of the best population of Northe 2
Europe—farmers, graziers, mechanics, and miners. Reckon |
up their worth at 1,500 dollars a head ; add to the produce :
the quantity of coin they will bring, 100 Sulit each person ;
then say if, in 4,800,000 ,000 dollars added to the wealth of the
country, our Govenndaa cannot find authority and courage to
guarantee the interest of the bonds issued to assist in building
the roads.”
Although the Prussian statistician mourns over the loss of
his emigrating countrymen, we in England are not justified
in joining him in his regrets. The long-continued misunder-
standing between capital and labour which exists in this
| country has done much to assist other European nations in|
_-‘Yaising their manufactories to a level with our own. We are.
ee longer the workshop of the world. We have more cotton-
WE REQUIRE DEPLETION. 277
ills, more machinery, more iron-works, and more opera- :
ves than are required to supply the markets dependent upon
s. We require depletion. The abject poverty which now
ares us in the face is becoming unendurable. How can our
estitute artisans educate their children when they are clothed
ith rags?—or what do starving parents care for school
eform? Equilibrium between the demand and supply of
abour must be attained ; and wholesale emigration is the only
neans by which this can be accomplished.
_ The fact of the United States being a foreign country ought
not to affect the question in the least. Canada, Australia,
New Zealand, all or any one of our colonies may soon become
independent of the mother country ; and perhaps it is better for
both that they should before long dissolve partnership. It is,
however, our desire, and also greatly to our advantage, to
Temain on the best terms with our American neighbours.
With one section of them—the emigrant Irish—this is at
P esent impossible. They hate us so intensely that, were it
Possible for them to gain the ascendency, wat would surely
follow. It should therefore be our aim to maintain the -
as endency of the Saxon and Teutonic elements in States.
} The Americans complain of our gross ignorance as regards
their politics, institutions, and social life ; and although they
are probably right in this accusation, our ignorance of them
Certainly finds a counterpart in their ignorance of us. If the
North was not unanimous in its views as to the desirability
_ of carrying on war with the South, how could they expect us
all to be of one mind? Yet most Northerners believe that
We sided altogether with the South, and they look upon us
88 enemies in consequence. Again, if they had carefully
| Watched the state of public opinion here since the war, they
| Would have perceived that if parties in England were pretty
278 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
evenly balanced in private sentiment with respect to the |
struggle when it was in progress, the direction which public ime
opinion has since been taking is towards the Republican party .
and the policy of the North. q
This drifting of the majority of Englishmen towards al
acquiescence in the unity and prosperity of the States will it
receive a severe check if the American Government perseveres |
in its most unjust treatment of the Alabama question ; for it will
convert many to the opinion that perhaps, after all, we should”
have done ourselves and the world generally a great service
by assisting in the partition of the Union instead of remaining”
strictly neutral in the quarrel. Ifthe Americans insist upo nf
keeping up ill-feeling by refusing to settle amicably these
outstanding claims ; if they continue to make mountains of |
molehills, and think it worth while to risk a war, which
would be thrice as expensive as that which they have just '
waged, for the sake of gratifying a vague feeling of jealousy
which has no real foundation, they will receive from us but }
very few emigrants and very little capital.
So much has been said and written, even within the last
few months, on emigration, that I will not attempt to discuss /
the subject in detail; but I have, in conclusion, one simple —
scheme to propose, which I consider eminently practical, and
which is the result of much reflection and of some experience.
A would-be emigrant generally finds it almost impossible
to obtain reliable information; he knows nothing, as a rule,
of distant lands; and those, unfortunately, to which he pro-
poses himself to go, lie far away on the outskirts of civilisa-
tion, and quite beyond the beaten track of ordinary travel.
He knows nothing of the expense, nothing of the require-
_ ments, nothing of the chances of success or failure, and it
_ often happens that when he has reached the country of his
AN EMIGRATION SCHEME. 279
adoption he goes to ruin before he has had time to learn how
to live there. A wise man, on emigrating, generally asks
mmself this question—‘ How can I support life, and keep
the little capital I have (supposing he is not quite destitute)
until I learn how the land lies?” Thousands stop at home
Mm misery and want because they cannot answer this question,
and dare not take this first step in the dark. Suppose there
Were established in London, in connection, say, with a central
Committee on emigration, a newspaper (call it The Emigrant)
devoted to the subject, and an office to which all who desired
could apply, we should be able in time to supply much of the
‘information required.
_ The editor of The Emigrant would be able to assist all
parties, first by publishing, under authority, so to speak,
‘Teliable information of every kind bearing upon the subject,
and, secondly, by bringing interested parties—shippers,
4gents for land and railway companies, colonial and other
Government agents, landowners, and the rest—face to face,
] through the advertising columns, with those who need lands
and conveyance to them. 7
One indispensable point would have to be reliability ©
‘formation. We must have no more British Columbia lies,
Such as were palmed upon us a few years ago by a “ large-
_ ~print”’ correspondent ina daily paper. Better lack of informa-
tion than false statements. The advertisements should be
- Quite distinct from the editorial part of the paper, and those
Which were evidently false should be omitted.
The office should be an inquiry office, and might be con-
ducted on the general plan of our registry offices for servants.
It might be made almost self-supporting by demanding a
small charge for services rendered. A library and reading-
room would form an indispensable branch of the establish-
|) |
‘
a
280 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
ment, where colonial and other papers would be received au 1
filed, and where books bearing on the subject, bills of sailing,
fares for transportation, &c., could be found. Such kind of
information would eabiicis gravitate thither; and if such a
system were once in active operation, it ‘enld be extende 1
indefinitely, and agencies might be planted in the countries
demanding immigration, as well as in those suffering from
over-population; each would work in its several capacities,
the one to obtain information, the other to impart it—the one
to pave the road, the other to show the way. q
Employers of skilled labour would no doubt often find it
advantageous to import fresh hands through this channel}
they could communicate directly with the central office, and.
would no doubt obtain the assistance they needed.
Stock-raisers, vine cultivators, agriculturists, masons, &c.,
could apply also for aid, and would be able to select, within
certain limits, those regions in which their particular know-
ledge would be of practical value. All, however, would soon ‘
learn that success as a colonist depends chiefly upon the art
of readily adapting oneself to whatever kind of labour is” .
most in demand, whether it be, as my friend at Albuquerque
proved by his actions, killing sheep, editing a newspaper, or
both combined.
It is unnecessary to do more than roughly sketch. the
scheme, for there is no difficulty in filling in the details.
Such an institution should not savour of a charity ; it should
not patronise, but assist the emigrant; and his advancement,
irrespectively of nation or polities, religion or caste, should be
the sole object to be attained.
There is no lack in this country of philanthropists whose
great and lifelong desire is to do good to their fellow-men.
_ Here, then, is an opportunity for those who have time and
CONCLUSION. 281
money at their command, and who look for their reward, not
in the homage paid them here, but in the inward conscious-
_ ness that they have done some service to suffering humanity.
If our great landowners, our merchants, and especially our
manufacturers, do not further this great end; if we, as a
_ nation, persist in keeping down labour by feeding millions of
unproductive paupers at home, instead of helping them to
- find employment elsewhere, we shall richly deserve to be
_ overpowered by that rabble form of democracy which aristo-
eratic England dreads so much.
APPENDIX A.
BOTANY OF THE REGION ALONG THE ROUTE OF THE KANSAS
PACIFIC RAILWAY, THROUGH KANSAS, COLORADO, NEW
MEXICO, ARIZONA, AND CALIFORNIA.
By ©. 0. PARRY, M.D., BoranisT To THE SURVEY.
“The unguarded and loose use of the term Boole as employed, not bad
in etearen writings, but also in sage descriptions given origin to
wrong impressions in reference to a
that hold with remarkable persistence ® both on the popular and
Thus, although to a certain extent the desert wastes of our
co:
such a district would serve at once to dispel 3 is
Thus, let the intelligent traveller pass pin tars in the month of
Sor, nts th gions ens and non gine i at
along the beaten and it will not be Prog aan
farther west, where
286 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
watered, and displaying a luxuriant vegetation, similar in many of its aspects
to what he has been accustomed to in cultivated eastern countries, he will hay
which only needs to be made easily accessible from the populous districts of the
Mississippi valley and the Western seaboard, to support and maintain a pros-
ation.
_ Commencing with Eastern Kansas, we note the rank vegetation pertaining to
rich alluvial districts: the bottom-lands are occupied with seein wth of
forest trees, including elm, black walnut, hackberry, ash, and cotton-wood ;
the uplands support rank prairie grasses and a variety of plants, exhibiting a
strange mingling of north-western, and more southern, forms, corresponding
. ses, uring th
1s represented only by the persistent cotton-wood, box-elder, and willow.
“he uplands, buffalo grass and grama take the place of the rank prairie sod, and
_— characterised by a short curly growth, and dense fibrous roots, often
i im clumps, and penetrating deeply into the dry though still nutritious
Still farther west we find the depressed basins and vall xhibiting a
i i eys exhibiung
white saline efflorescence, due to the intense evaporation, which in the dry
Saline ingredients derived from the washed soil of the
ted bottoms, overflowed in the season of rains. With
ar grasse8, which in. the summer rainy season assume a d
forgeries a dry season ‘e converted into a nutritious
t 2 a
wails * . ted in the dried
Bpper alluvial benches of the principal valleys we encounter dense
BOTANICAL REPORT. 287
_ moorish growths of ‘‘ wild sage” ae Sarcobatis, and Obione, or grease-
F wood, well known to all Western explore
_ The conditions essential for timber growths ., superficial moisture, and
shelter from fierce winds, are here confined to the dope valleys and constant
4 large water-courses, where cotton-wood an tain a variable ex-
__ istence, occasionally occurring in extensive tracts sola ¢ the Arkansas and the
ton Fork, while elsewhere the country presents a treeless and open
i "The idea frequently suggested by those unacquainted with the true physical
_ features of this section of country, of planting trees, and thus securing shelter
and an increased precipitation of moisture, will by no means stand the test of a
common-sense view, where the objects to be gained are precisely such as the
4 pesntry does not naturally admit of; and furthermore, its perfect ton ne =
q ng is so manifest, that any one view of its application to useful p
prese
= “meat in the form of summer rains and winter snows. ‘These memset
give rise to perennial streams and springs, which send their watery tributes to
the arid plains below, and maintain verdure in the lower yalleys, which are
in nib peer eon s districts
a sufficient elevation is attained to insure a constantly cool atmo-
sphere, huhets abound, consisting mainly of evergreen pines, spruce, and fir,
but also in << scattered growth of scrubby oak, maple, birch, cotton-
wood, and willow The principal wears that penetrate this mountain district,
rm, compri ; ral ‘
watered, an oonveanaily located for supplying adjoining mining
With their lus agricultural products. Hence they represent the main
Populous districte, which, combining all the agreeable accessories of & fine
Salubrious climate, and anna for building and fu at -
retain a permanent population devoted to the mixed pursuits of agriculture an:
In the accompanying list of plants, those referred to as occurring in the
“onl of the Huerfano and Sangre de © prone serye to represent the
= vegetation of this peculiar m ountain
7 In passing do rar valley of the Upper Rio gene we encounter
Pea very distinct in its general features, Patio neluding an
strange shrubbery, having a Mexican type.
hemmed in along a great portion of its upper acon by dark, Se oa
- basaltic tocks, flows in deep inaccessible cafons, which open out
basins,
288 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERIGA.
The San Luis valley, lying above this cafoned portion of the valley, presents —
course of the numerous tributary streams owing down from the high moun-
tain ridges on either side of the main valley.
This section is particularly adapted to the growth of cereals and root crops,
and in its cool atmosphere abundance of grass and clear flowing water is
eminently a dairy region.
a wide alluvial basin, including extensive tracts of fertile soil, lying along the
fl
pe =
distinction in their products, the former being adapted to small grains,
potatoes, butter, and cheese, the latter to maize and fruits. In this condition
things, an exchange of products would prove of mutual advantage, and
afford profitable business in the way of transportation in both directions
forests of pifion and cedar, which occupy adjoining rocky and barren ridges,
while the higher mountain ranges will supply lumber and building material to
any desired extent. ae
The lower portion of the valley of the Rio Grande includes the district
generally referred to as New Mexi
wide alluvial or sandy bottoms, bounded by bluffs of grayel and occasional
rocky declivities, capped with basalt. The flora here includes the plants
referred to in the accompanying list as New Mexican, Owing to the more
moderate in extent, and occurring at the proper season, help to main 8
natural fertility of the soil, but are occasionally very destructive )
growing crops, or un ing and transporting large tracts of fertile soil,
unding, with abrupt mural faces, y eys of erosion; th ta are
interrupted at various points by igneous protrusions and overflows of basalt
and lava, serving versify in a remarkab external features of
di
scenery, and to modify the texture and composition of the overlying soil. is
especially noticeable in the character of the native yegetation, which is directly
ted to these variable conditions. Thus, on the dry uplands and mesas, we
end watered growth of grama, interrupted with occasional growths of cedar
_ and pifton. On the more elevated mountain ridges we meet with dense
Pe en PERE Ee re Me Nat ee eT ae Re ee eee ee et
ey
aa en ao lay ht ak ee
BOTANICAL REPORT. 289
_ through Western New Mexico and Northern Arizona, the surveyed ra
_ Toute on the 35° parallel traversing the most desirable portions. Being
imperfect view of its botanical features could be obtained, but the faded vestiges’
floral beauty were manifest on every hand to testify to the luxuriant rich-
ess of its su er dress,
“The uplands of the valley of the Colorado, om the desert oo extending
to the foot of the Sierr ada, comprise a singular and very inte
a
flora, the general features of which, though ates Seairesh xamined, are still
fairly represented in scientific collections. Here arborescent Cacti and tree
yuccas form a conspicuous feature in the landscape, whilst the true desert flora,
such as the neat evergreen Larrea with its myrtle-shaped | rae vere: us with
a host of thorny Mimose, dull-coloured Obione, or grease prevalent
Artemisias, all serve to give a faded aspect to the vegetation
the annual growth is here exceedingly rapid and evanescent, an and
mainly of delicate grasses and tender-foliaged plants, which expand quickly
with the early spring rains, and disappear as suddenly when the scorching sun
licks up the superficial — leaving no previous 5
Save the diminutive seeds from sight in the ligh sand or
gravelly soil t nie water-comrses of this district we meet constantly
the Cercidium fl ; « green-barked Acacia,” the arborescent Dales
oridum
(Dalea erp with ite ane leafless branches, and the valuable ‘‘iron-
wood” (Olneya Tesota).
The Chilopsis linearis, allied to Catalpa, is also abundant, being known under
the common name of the «‘ desert willow,” its long slender branches being used
by the Indians for basket-work. In the river bottoms we mee eet with luxuriant
growths of mezquit and ‘screw-bean,” the former furnishing a very durable
wood, affording prec pan ee of peer size for railroad ties 35
is the
in.
Most of the plants of this district, mrp especially the Artemisias and
other shrubby Composite, are smeared Ww a resinous varnish, which gives
a pleasant stimulating aroma, noticed oe nearly al desert —— Tt is
quite probable that some of these plants possess val uable ae ——
or are adapted for dyes or varnishes, P resenting a subject we. worthy
pe the rich vegeta-
In reaching the Pacific slope of the —— mountains, onder
tion of this district is brought forcibly acer contrast ine aoe
is before noticed. In the moist hum doi of the mountain valleys
here meet with those gigantic monsters of the forest found nowher ‘
290 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
enrich Eastern gardens, is not yet exhausted, and new discoveries are being —
made every year by the zealous botanists connected with the California State —
Geological Survey. A regular flora of this region is now in course of prepara- —
tion by Professor W. H. Brewer, under the able assistance of Professor Gray, of 7
Cambridge, Massachusetts. ;
THE FOREST TREES ON THE ROUTE OF THE SURVEY.
The importance of the tree product near the line of the surveyed et ;
route, both as regards supplies of fuel and purposes of construction and rep: ‘
is of sufficient interest to receive some special notice in a general Lotta
report ;
After leaving the wooded district of Eastern Kansas, which occupies the —
principal valleys with belts of timber of variable extent, and which diminishes —
rapidly to the west, we at length, near the 100° west longitude, ae upon
a treeless district, extending for over 5°, and reaching to the foot of the Rocky 3
or metamorphic rocks, is comparatively smooth in its general outline, and —
easily accessible. The forest growth is here almost exclusively confined to the —
Rocky Mountain gel pine (Pinus ponderosa), which, from its durable quality,
rity 0: facility for working up into the different qualities of |
lumber, is probably one most valuable of any Western pine. When gro
and well adapted for railroad ties. This is the prevalent pine tree which is
met with on all the eleyated mountain slopes extending from the Eastern Rocky —
Mountains to the Sierra Nevada.
Farther to the south of the Denver pine-region, along the different lines of —
the Seid railroad siege Asics Southern Colorado and New Mexico, a
ee oy ‘different and peculiar pine makes its appearance along the foot-hills of the
cky Mountains, ‘clothing the low rocky ledges with patches of dark green, as
seen in a distant view.
‘This is the nut-pine, or Pifion of the natives, Pinus edulis of botanists. It is
__ generally of a low branching habit, its short stocky trunk dividing near the
surface of the $e into branching arms, ane it a globular outline.
toe ars large es its straggling branches intertwine to form
inextrice icket
Cae i queacatys sevciated at lower elevations with a cedar (Juniperus occiden
. tals of a ee straggling habit, which farther west gives place to the
, Torr.
er
These trees are all well adapted for fuel, burning when = ee a clear
_ intense fame, which is prolonged and especially suited steam
* BOTANICAL REPORT. 291.
urposes. In some sections the pion presents a more upright growth, and
has short uniform trunks, suitable for railroad ties. The wood is durable, but
i and with a twisted fibre, so that it is unfit for other purposes of
“railroad construction
__ The distribution of the pifion and cedar forests is particularly favourable
; nient rei es of railroad fuel, being scatter ed along the line of the
On the neoresiz crests of the Rocky Mountains, the Sierra Madre, San
) Francisco, and the Sie vada we meet with other varieties of pine and
Spruce, occasionally ing extensive forests, and affording material for the
hich different tree products these we may
the Pifio real (Pinus contorta), which is noted for its slim, r
, particularly suited for telegraph poles and cross ties; the Douglas
Spruce, or mountain he g ery durable and tough wood ;
4 ies’ spruce, and Abies Engelmanni, the latter
_ Wood, well adapted to inside work. Besides these, on the high alpine ridges,
oak, ash, the central mountain region. While we have repre-
4 “sentatives of aves of these, they are so comparatively rare, or of such insignifi-
tant growth, as not properly to enter into the account in any spec view
tral mo i
and the lower valleys of the San Francisco Moun ins, we 2 meet with a
q - deciduous-lea ved white oak, sometimes of fair size, and suitable for railroad
' With a great variety of peculiar pines and firs, but also hinge oaks, forming
, &xtensive forests, and well adapted 6 all the required u ses of hard wood in
' notice is the mae <7 oak (Quercus
scr a perfect
Besides
botany of the region connected with the railroad survey,
to the following list of plants.
v2
292
LIST OF PLANTS COLLECTED OR OBSERVED ON THE SURVEY
NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
OF THE KANSAS PACIFIC RAILWAY,
tN 1867 anp 1868,
tte numbers refer to the author's — in the Botanical Department of the British -
useum.) |
Clematis Douglasii
Aquilegia czerulea
gt acai scopuloram
3 Argemone hispida
A. Mexicana
Stanleya pinnatifida
} streptocarpa
Lepidium alyssoides
L. flavum
Streptanthus linearifolius
i ium incisum
0 Sisymbri
Cleome integrifolia
Polanisia tmiglandlos
P. graveolen
Tonidium lineare
Sisyrinchium Bermudiana
Hypericum Scouleri
Canotea holocantha
CAPPARIDACEX.
Torr. and Gray
De C.
Raf.
VIOLACE®.
Torr
TIrmaczex.
Hyperricacem,
Torr.
CaRYOPHYLLACER.
Valley of the Huerfano
Sangre de Christo Pass
Raton Mountains
Kansas
New Mexico
Valley of the Huerfano
Colorado
Sangre de Christo Pass
sg and New Mexico
and
Coderader Desert Feb., 1868
New Mexi
”
Colorado and New Mexico
Ra’ ountains
”
Kansas
Purgatoire Valley
Sangre de Christo Pass
Arizona
Sierra Blanca
Northern New Mexico
” ”
Kansas
Sangre de Christo Pass
Blanca
Sierra
BOTANICAL REPORT.
Callirhoe involucrata
Linum rigidum
L. perenne
Thamnosma montanum
Commelyna Virginica
Tradescantia Virginica
Larrea Mexicana
Ceanothus Fendleri
Acer glabrum
Negundo aceroides
Polygala alba
uupinus pusillus
. decum
rifolium involucratum
nanum
soralea esculenta
- argyrophylla
- campestris
cuspidata
. floribunda
- lanceolata
MALvAcEz.
RuTacEz.
Gray
CoMMELYNACEZ.
ray
Linn
ZYGOPHYLLACER,
RHAMNACEZ.
Gray
ACERACEA,
Torr. :
Moench.
PoLyYGALACEs.
Gray
Torr. and Gray
Linn.
Nutt. :
Torr. and Gray
_ Kansas
Valley e the nai
Upper Ar Arkansas
Colorado Desert
Purgatoire Valley
Smoky Hill, Kansas
Colorado Desert
Raton Mountains
”
New Mexico and Arizona
Northern New Mexico
Sangre de Christo Pass
Kansas earn
111
NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Robinia Neo-Mexicana
uncinata
Glycyrrhiza lepidota
us
mig tes
ul
oO z E &
B A
freee re See Pr
im i fm be PP >>> b> >> bbb ppp
: Fa =
bs = & FTE 2
at
a%
”
D
H. canescens
Baptisia australis
Hoffmanseggia Jamesii
Petalostemon candidum
vi
; aceum
FP: macrostachyon
iy ‘
Torr. and Gray
Nutt.
Gray
Scheele
Willd.
Linn.
Nutt. (Gray says
not
Lehm. —
Torr. and Gray
-)
Lecuminosa (continued).
Valley ed Poms Huerfano
New M
New Mexico a nee Rio Colorado
Raton Moun:
Smoky ; ‘Kan
Kansas and New Mexico
Smo s
New Mexico
Smo See Kansas
Ae xico
”
Sangre de Christo Pass
Northern New Mexico
Valley of the Huerfano
Kansas
Valley of the Huerfano
Sangre de Christo Pass
” ”
”? ora
Kansas Saga
Valley of the Huerfano
Kansas
Now hen a
mel ora
New Mexi
”
”
Kansas
Greenhorn Mountain
ew Mexico
Sierra "Blanca
New Mexico
Sangre de Christo Pass
” 9?
?
9?
New Mexico
?
Sangre de Christo
New Mexico
BOTANICAL REPORT.
ora
dasa
8. ceespitosa
8S. bronchialis
Sedum Rhodiola
Epilobium paniculatum
E. coloratum
Stenosyphon virgatus
coccinea
G. parviflora
(Enothera lavendulzfolia
. triloba
:. pinnatifida
QE. Missouriensis
a.
a. cn saa
QE. canesc
Q. bienn
a. albicaulis
Mentzelia multiflora
- (Eucnide) urens
M. o
M. Wrightii
So. MM; tg
¢
ntia arborescens
QHESODDS
C.
Cyclanthera dissecta
Cucurbita perennis
digitata
Cynomarathrum saxatile
Heracleum lanatum
Cymopterus alpinus —
Nutt
pe “and oe
Torr.
Nutt.
Nutt.
LoAsacEZm.
Valley of the Huerfano
p 3
Sangre
Valley of the Huerfano
Colorado Valley
Mexico
Sangre de Christo
of the Huerfano —
Rangrede Christo
166
168
NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Te
i
ad feed feed he, Pree bee Pe Pe TPP ® 6D LD
? 5 | RD ataes € iar)
Potradlymia i inermis
. spinosa
essa’
es
a
Carphephorus junceus
aillardia pinnatifida
» pulche
Porophyllum scoparium
Psathyrotes ramosa
ComposiTz,
Villd.
Upper ee
New Mexi
Purgatoire Aeon 4
w Mexi
Valley of the Huerfano
Valley of the Huerfano
” ?
— of | the Huerfano
”
Colorado Desert
New
na
Maren of the ee
escott, Ariz
pte Colorado.
New Mexic
Arizon
aleknde Desert
Rio Colorado
Sierra Nevada
New Mexico
Valley of — Huerfano
New Mex.
tet Arkansas
_ New
Valley of t the Huerfano
Raton Mountains
Christo
”
Raton Mountains
Southern
a Valley
og! eee
Rio Gra et and Rio Colorado
Mexi
A. occidentalis
A. septentrionalis
BOTANICAL REPORT.
Composit (continued).
Bidens — ray
B. cern Linn.
x: rimenesia encelioides Cav.
Sanvi Aberti Gray
Bahia biternata Gray
B. oppositifolia
Villanova chrysanthemoides Gray
Lowellia a ray
Schkuhria Neo-Mexi ray
Dysodia p Rescar f y:
Hymenopappus scabeoseus —_ Herit.
Hymen — ?
a tenis Torr. and Gray
Helen ie Fog Gray
Roliuclie scaposa Gray
A. acau ae Nutt.
A, Richardsonii Nutt.
] tiddellia maar Nutt.
Senecio exaltatus Nutt.
3. longilo Benth.
8. Bi igelovil, var. Hallii Gray
jrindeli squarrosa Duy
Hymenoclea monogyra Torr. and Gray
Dicoria canescens ra
Berlandiera incisa Torr. and Gray
: ria deltoidea Torr.
F. Hookeriana utt.
Artemisia tridentata Nutt.
A. fies lia orr.
A, Willd.
A. Cunuderads ichx
A. Parryi Gray, Nov. sp.
Grapholium strictum ray
Antennaria_. R. Br.
A. dioica Goertn.
. Muhlgedium pulchrum Nuit.
Lygodesmia juncea Dougl.
Achillea millefolium Linn.
Chrysopsis villosa Nutt.
CAMPANULACER
Campanula uniflora Li
C. rotundifolia i
EricacE®
Vaccinium m Hook.
Arctostaphylos uva-ursi Spreng.
Pyrola secun Linn.
Chimaphila umbellata Nutt.
ApocyNACcE.®
Apocynum cannabinum
PLANTAGINACES.
Plantago Patagonica Jacq.
PRIMULACEX.
Primula angustifolia Torr.
Lysimachia ita Linn.
Androsace e sy CG.
New Mexico
Fort Garlan
Valley of the Huerfano
New Mexico
”
Valley of the Huerfano
LY
Vi fed the Huerfane
New Mexico
New _
Sangre
7 ley of the he Herne
San;
.
ralley of the Howkss
New Mexico
M
Southern Arizona
New Mexico
. Valley of the Huerfano
New Mexico
”
Sangre de Christo
New Mexico
Sangre de Christo
Rocky Mountains
”
Kansas
Kansas
69
73
NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Humulus lupulus
Chilopsis linea
Martynia cake
Phelipwea a
P. erianthe
Pentstemon Torreyi
P. albi dum
angustifolius
Rhinan’
piacere Wrightii
Sericographus Californicus
Verbena Aubletia
V. stri
Lippia reptans
Teucrium lanciniatum
. Cubense
Stachys dials
ma Drummondii
2 a
Urricacex.
BIGNONIACER.
OROBANCHACER.
ou
Engel. nov. Sp.
ScroPHULARIACER,
Benth.
Nutt.
Purgatoire Valley and N. M.
New Mexico and Arizona
Valley of the “ee amcor
o Grande, New Mexi
Raton Mountains
ansas
New Mexico
8
New Mexico
Valley of Purgatoire
New Mexico
Arizona
Kansas
Raton Mountains
New Mexico
Raton Mountains
Fort Garland
New Mexico
New Mexico
—s Mountains
7
S Giagathine
8. ee
© con
bh. be be be b> bm b> bp b>
ad Pe ee ee
BOTANICAL REPORT.
me splendens
ongiflora
-@. pulchella
Ipomcea Smithii (Unique)
I. leptophylla
28 oo imps eet
Cuscuta Gro
Evolvulus teas ssi
Convolvulus Hermannii
um Jamesii
9S. rostra
Physalis I johats
P. longifolia
P.
. cardiophylla
Datura meteloides
ithania sordida
- macrotis
\cerates auriculata
asperula
\. decumbens
viridiflora
‘: paniculata
\. verticillata
linearis
)xybaphus
). nyctagineus
), angustifolius
Teloxys cornuta
obatis vermicularis
Obione canescens
O. occidentalis
Eurotia lanata
PoLEMONIACER.
Engel.
Dougl.
Nutt.
CoNnVOLVULACES.
Durand
Kan
Valley of the Huerfano :
Valley of the Pecos, New Mexico
Rio Colorado
Purgatoire Valley
Sangre de Christo
Raton Mountains
Purgatoire Valley
Valley of the Huerfano
Raton Mountains
U Arkansas
Purgatoire Vs oe
Purgatoire
iw]
BRE
187
NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
er ec mas
Freelichia F)
Polygonum amphibium
Eriogonum Jamesii
E
athoganins rigidum
Rumex venosus
Comandra pallida
Euphorbia dentata
4 E i
E. lata
Aphora humilis
Juglans rupestris
Rhus toxicodendron
Quercus lobata
Q. Emo
Q. agrifolia
Croton muricatum
Betula alba
_ Kallstroemia maxima
Salix longifolia
Populus tremuloides
P. angustifolia
P. monilifera
Gray
Mog.
Potyconacea,
BrETULACcER.
Spach.
ZYGOPHYLLACER.
Torr.
Saricacem,
uhl,
Michx,
Torr.
Ait.
GERANIACER.
Pursh
Rio Grande
Raton Mountains
Raton ning
w M
Valley shes Huerfano
Valley of 1 the Huerfano
Colorado Desert”
New Mexic
Kansas
Upper Arka
— Valley
Kansas"
Arizona
New Mexico
Western New Mexico
California
Raton Mountains
Sangre de Christo
New Mexico
Uppe + Arbonne
eines de C
Christ
Valley of the Huerfano :
Western valley
New Mexico
Sing Mexico t
o Arizona
Rocky Miagtatn to he Pacifist
e de Christo :
New Mexico :
Sierra Nevada
Pee er a, Oh Pica
e
BOTANICAL REPORT. 301
Con1rer& (continued).
rer fete 5 gre Parry. Sangre de Christo
Dougl °
. x Doug Hook. 5
A. gra: Dougl -
J anges * occidentalis Hook. Arizona and New Mexico
4 pac Torr. Arizona
sete ry Linn. Raton Mountains
Onoumaces,
Goodyera Menziesii Lindl. Greenhorn Mountains
Corallorhiza multiflora Nutt. ” ” ;
i ALISMACE %.
30 Sagittaria variabilis Engel. New Mexico
AMARYLLIDACEE.
Agave Americana Linn. Arizona
LItiAcez ¥
33 Calochortus venustus Benth. Valley of the Huerfano
ats ydia serotina ns Sierra Blanca
ucea a tifoli Pursh. Kansas
ucca sit — (Py Arizona and Colorado Desert
Dasylirion graminifolium Tuce. Arizon ;
81 Allium cernuum Roth. Raton Mountains
32 A. striatum Jacq ”
JUNCACER
Juncus Balticus Willd. Sangre de Christo
J. longistylis Torr. ”
| notions Linn. Valley of the Huerfano
“a J. Mertensianus Bong. ” ”
: J. tenuis ‘Willd. Kansas
- OXxALIDACER
188 Oxalis violacea Linn. ‘Kansas
CYPERACEE
Scirpus pun Vahl. Smoky Hill, Kansas
Fimbristlis spices Vahl. Valley of the Huerfano
yperus infil Muhl. Upper Arkansas
GRAMINEX
Panicum k vegabts Linn. Upper Arkansas
_ _ P. obtus H. B. K. »
ee. Eriocoma ct cuspidata Nutt. Valley of the Huerfano
wr ed da purpurea Nutt. :
A. Californica New Mexico
Agrostis scabra Willd.
Sporabolus ramosissimus Kth. Upper Arkansas
ilfa tricholepis Torr. New Mexico _
38 enbergia gracilis Torr. Sangre de ¢
M. illima Torr. Seas
___ Vaseya comata Thurb. Musca Pass
P is chae te ee Ledb. New Mexico
ce is James Torr. Upper Arkansas
utel Kansas to Arizona
PB enc eloua ua oligostachya ha New Mexico and Arizona
as polystachya Torr. Arizona :
#2 B. curtipendula Gray (Chloris) Kansas
G. eri
i cteee dealbata
N. Fendleri
Woodsia
NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
Buchloe dactyloides
Bryzopyrum strictum
Koeleria cristata
Andropogon furcatus
Pellza atropurpurea
P. longimucronata
eo lanuginosa
gana
GRAMINEE (continued).
Engel
Torr. @
Munroe
ansas
New Mexico
Sangre de Christo
”
”
»”
”
New Mexico
Arizona
Valley of the HI gem
escott, Arizo
Valley of the Huerfana
New Mexico
APPENDIX B.
ROUTES.
TABLES OF DISTANCES AND ELEVATIONS ae OF THE
RIO GRANDE.
No. 1—FROM THE END OF THE TRACK IN KANSAS TO THE
ARKANSAS RIVER AT FORT LYON.
Elevations
’ Tide- Distances from Distances.! Sheridan. Kansas City,
| water. y
Feet. Miles. Miles, Miles.
2,957 | Sheridan, Kansas .........+- ven teas a =e 2 405
| 8,056 | To Fort —— svawes ev eee cee 12 12 417
3,126 oe Oreck ...i.4:espuniepe 3 16 420
nno Wali reoeics eaaetee yee 40 55 460
oe Decne cae 4 eee 10 65 470
4,192 Big Sandy ......... [sa eeeyee reat 5 70 475
tale rons ese SPTING . 5006 cceseeeesceeee es 16 85 490
3,725 Fort rds i Bl Vasa So per week 35 120 525
No. 2.—RATON MOUNTAIN LINE.
levations
above Tide- Distances from | — sah Pte
water, Distan
Feet, Miles. : Miles.
3,725 | Fort iepon, ee sivas Sees Ae: 120 525
4,266 |To -Sacena of Chequaco ....ssereeecreress 50 170 575
6,1 mn Pass = (Point of Raton iin 40 210 615
+: Cimarron ee 13 233 628
7,030 Capull mit baer pees es 6 229 634
os Vermejo ics ccvcseeeee ease se eee od we es
5,634 Red Rive 45 from Cap. Smt.) | 45 274 679
+ Fort Units Danae (Kroenig’s)_.--+++-- 54 — hes
6,718 Divide between Canadian an seme 15 +7 a
i i Vege 6 icsck case sive eeten ees r :
iost’s GAD ci cc cis ceed teen perry ee
6,264 Chupa: ee : 356 761
5,406 ecaloté Crossing.....++es+rse%? ee ; a ved 731
Pecos Tver Beanies : . 355 794
6,917 Ca: eres peue swe veneetee ress 17 406 811
Cafion Bt Summit cae eenu : te $16
ns Sati Taber. vs Peo 3 419 824
> Mo: onte Largo ..sessee reer reset? : es ae
, do Colorado ....++++++ cee ieee: ; pre aaa
* Tejeras oe $5 8 ey (17 4 871
ans Rio Grande at t Pajatda eS of in 871
39900 | =o Grrande at Pajalie -+-+4r* peerere 8 1
4,8 Rio Grande a iis ote lis | 7
NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
304
No. 3.—GALISTEO ROUTE.
Elevations ; a | haar Kaness Ci ‘iene city
arene ats eanginions | tances. | g | via Raton mi = via Cim
| Miles. | Miles. | Miles, Miles.
6,817 | Cafion Blanco Summit ........4...+- |. | 406 | 811 739
oe To ed of South Terk of Galisteo. . 4 410 815 743
et mrs Rate Cary ee eee a 21 431 836 764
a i Fé D 4 841 769
es aan reline Coal Mine (Placier Mtn.) 4 | 440 845 773
Sot | San Keio 463 868 796
Distances by “San Miguel Cut off.” |
To — Tats POCOHION: 55s vive os | 365 | 77 698
369774 702
sone Coal 1 mile above San.
Wien el) sep ea ese 22-37 | 782 710
Siaants of es acre Range (2 miles | _
west of Pigeon’s Ranche) ...... 28 | 405 810 738
i Tow <1 et 40 825 753
Works of Galisteo-. oy abc e be ee 943 828 756
San Felipe 32 455 860 788
No. 4.—CIMARRON ROUTE.
Elevations | Local From Fr
‘me Distances from | ' Distances.| Harker, iansas Gly!
Feet | Miles. Miles, Miles
1,466 | ~ Sake Cee ie. frees Se Sere : : 218
a xt: Zea (Arkansas River) ar ey eae 41 259
a ee ern 35 76 294
HOPG DOOR G~. "5 ess oe einai dale eens 5] 127 345
Upper crannies Sa of the Arkansas 24 151 369
‘ > tt Cre eek — 60 211 429
‘ r Crossing of the Cimarron ...... 1 225 443
. East ‘Side of Beha RUA@e ov ccxwess 1 237 455
‘ Middle Cimarron Spring.............. 18 255 473
3 Head of Twelve-Mile soethomsas veer ee Kelee 1 267 485
a of the eee 15 282 500
es Upper eke eoviuereerivnn 3 290 508
‘ Cols Borie ores sis iy i oe y 297 515
re Cedar Spring 14 311 529
ne ’s Spring ...... 14 325 543
3 Rabbit- Creek 23 3 566
r Whetstone Creek . 3 361 579
‘ Rock Creek 1 372 590
; Point co Becks Se a ev sins | 386 604
; Rei Rive RIVET ee ance ett nes estes cou} 796 412 630
oe ancl ‘Depot (Kroenig’s) ........ 443 661
6,233 Las Vegas . = 92 4 683
5,406 Pecos River above ove Anton R025 5 491 709
Blanco ) 521 739
{ 4 578 796
60 * 581 799
5.
| : ~~ APPENDIX. 305
; No. 5.—HUERFANO ROUTE.
4 Elevations above teaal yan
. the Sea. Distances from Distances. | Kansas City.
Feet. Miles, =
3,725 Fort ete a 120° 525
3,892 To Bent’s 18 He
4,563 irate: Fa unction 50 593
6,287 nion oni 50 aa
9,186 angre de Christo Summit ....... pets 35 678
7,783 F hate Garland 25 703
7,301 Rio Pore at Toas Cafion 736
5,042 San Felipe 113 849
4,868 Albuquerque 879
4,833 Pajarida 1.544 6 885
4,803 Isletta hd 6 891
Remarxs.—Mosca — Elevation ; 9,577 feet.
distanos techn Ihab Lagan iver te isirss 106 Tiles.
No. 6.—PUNTIA PASS ROUTE.
i Local From
Elevations. page has tear bes,
Feet. Miles. 3
3,725 “Fort I on Oe eerie. SECS aay Pe
3,892 To = “ - wire? fe A 4
a erp ma re
ion ibe 17 614
Cafion City is es
- McCandless Park ......... PROS Core a od sas
.: le: t Valley. ...ccceceerrerceecees ~ a
6,500 Forks of the Arkansas .......++++++++ . i
. oint of leaving ditto ....-.+seeeeeeee - A
8,600* Summit of Puntia Pass .......++++ — ~ i
Sahwatch ( D Seseycasens peewee Se eed
ae eae 873
5,042 an Melipe eererd iG pass as os pepe . ons
4,868 Albuquerque .......--+eeeerererreet . : 939
4,833 Paj eeereee ‘ 945
4,803 =. 21 lotha = oe ee ae . 6
i meena
p VOL. 71. x
306 - NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
TABLES OF DISTANCES AND ELEVATIONS FROM THE RIO
GRANDE TO THE RIO COLORADO, vid 357u PARALLEL,
No. 1.—PRINCIPAL LINE (vid NAVAJO PASS, WHIPPLE PASS,
PARTRIDGE CREEK, AND YAMPA SUMMIT).
; , i - Local From
Elevations, From Isletta, 12 miles south of Albuquerque. Distances. Tsletta.
Feet. Miles. Miles,
4,803 ae. ane
5,276 14 14
5,031 Mouth. a El thee # 13 27
5,310 Sheep b Springs ; 13 40
5,535 ELR : 8 48
5,633 : Laguna Tittateartion i 4 52
G7ik | Dagel Scoea 4 56
5,870 8 64
6,185 acai i eee 14 78
6,375 Fort Wingate 10. 88
6,557 12 100
TAIT ; Pia Pass (Summit of Sierra Madre). = on
6,649 Old Fe Fort Fauntleroy dg 5 dori + Wingate) 10 138
6,220 Zuiii and Fort Defiance Road.......... 18 156
5,855 Cafion of Navajo Crea Veawpeereeeete 30 186
5,626 Navajo Springs 9235 or es 14 200
Ag Yai Rigtedl TH ee 5 205
4,998 Little oe wpe of Navajo Creek) 35 240
4,765 Sunset 1 cnninn SERIE ee Oe 35 275
5,294 Cafion note ee ME Ue WT e ss Wark sw oth cg 28 303
oe Cotton-wood Cafion ..............045.. 11 314
6,358 Pagre Cities. so, cigaae eee 10 324
7,101 San Francisco Ridge ..36.¢6, 5 50.0 13 337
7 Leniox Speing sive oo ee 2 339
7,510 Tonto Pass (Leroux Summit, near eee ais
FOUCT ECU. 5 eee 3
7,558 Bald Peak (unnecessary — Spey 9 351
7,199 ark a 2h BOCs eae fe eh 6 357
100 Whe iiss eee ae 362
6,512 Pekar - Partridce So SE Se aN vee eae 32 394
5,2: MUMS PORE 2502565 6 400
5,088 Mouth of Paradies Creek Valley ...... 20 420
4,648 Crossing of Val de Chino.............. 11 431
5,127 i—egattidie lands cat sce ee ee 17 448
5,241 ‘Yanpe re serooraae, to ee Cation) 22 470
3,783 Druxton’s Spring se vevecs ele 27 497
3,170 mencoek Morte Sogo. coe 20 517
3,473 Wallapi Pass (Railroad Pass) ........ 14 531
1,286 st ie Ha fe ee 27 558
353 lorado River’ (near the — 25
miles below Fort ss ph) Se ee | 22 580
NN - $$ en!
307
APPENDIX.
No. 2.—LAGUNA LINE.
Elevations above | Distances from San Felipe, on Rio sieciiaed 30 miles Local From
_ Tide-water. north of Albuquerque. Distances. | San Felipe.
Feet. Miles. Miles,
5,042 San a re —_— to— A .
5 Mouth a Balt ‘Creok oH 98
ey Rio ll 39
os Rio Puerco 4 53
r San Antonio Summit ~ 10 63
ee Ojo de Chamisa : 7 70
5,633 Laguna Intersection......++.+- ywiees 8 78
No. 3.—WHITE MESA LINE.
i Fro’
[ane Distances from Distances. |Park Springs.
Feet. Miles. Miles.
7,199 Park Spring (357 miles from Isletta) to—
“ope Junction with Park Creek Line......+. 15 15
>
5,579 —s ant — a Oey eee — 218 od
5,498 int 0: é
5,677 Point of Blue Meek 1l 59
5,908 Summit between Val de Chino and Cata- . “6
rac
6,166 Yam ap—Summit . see eer eres wears ; § 76
5,178 Ses Aubrey ale i hs ai 10 86
5,369 Junction with Principal . ee
Gap ici. csccecceneecseeeseres ee
No. 4.—LAJA GAP LINE.*
Elevations above Distances from Distances. Park Springs.
Tide-water,
oermee Miles.
7.199 Park ay (357 miles from Isletta) to— 44
a = 4
a Gap (Summit) .....-.000000r 000+ 44
= vie O coven act ch cesk eter reer et : 61
6,166 pe eer ee eee 7
5,369 Yampa Junction .....---- overs noe
* rad
308 : NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
No. 5.—COSNINO CAVES LINE.
From
bag. hr —— Distances from Isletta. Penal | Isletta.
Feet. Miles. | Miles,
4,765 ToSunset Crossing .....,, a oes Met ie 275
4,580 Mouth of Calcn Le ae eee a 33 308
6,090 Wn URES as oo 2 334
6,428 Junction with Padre Cafion Line |||”! 6 340
Being 13 miles longer than from Sunset Crossing to same Junction by Caiion Line.
No. 6.—AZTEC PASS LINE.
ape, rig Distances from Isletta. a!
Feet. Miles. Miles.
Bie Ro Puk Gee a: 357
6,132 Junction of Park Creek with White
s10 Then esa Line . aVrerrtimect:. 16 372
: ] Cafion OOS ses b:; 377
ean Sa ai Ofeelickk..: OCT es 5 382
Summit bet. Cedar and Partridge Creeks 5 = EBT
Bet —— of Park Creek with Whipple ;
ude ices ae 393
To same point vid Whipple Pass Line _ SS 39338, |
5,315 To Pearl Spri thet eeei ss Free 6 | : |
5,285 RMS TRE wove s ivy iy 1 | -
5,088 Mouth of Partridge A i POAS MERC OL UI 20 | ° 490 j
4,653 Junction with Yampa Line,... 1.1717" § | ga 7
4,649 | . Grossing of Val de Chino .,..../°.""" 2 430
5,139 att boca A etcnne MO oe ee 12 442
5,6 Connection; of Miller and Schuyler |" ‘ 6 448
6,117 Summit of Azteo Pass... 4.54345 005. 9 457
5,170 — Aides hihdkine rset re 13 470
4,980 oem ee ee 8 478
5,052 | South of Cross Mountain... 11117" °"""" 3 | 481
5,076 | Divi Meet between Cafion Creck and Fort
kee | Re coma a 4
4,972 | North of Fort Rock § Ope 3 | 88
4,892 _ Divide between White Cliff and Cafion
| me 6
2
No. 7.
Hrom the Rio Grande to the Rio Colorado by White Mesa nm ey ag ee “568
” by Laja Gap Line :
sf inaiaedindth de Re oe a
by —— nN of Mount Taylor and
oar Hise
re I cl erg ge yg
No. 1—ROUTE FROM THE NEED
APPENDIX.
COLORADO RIVER.
8 (C
FRANCISCO a eet PASS
TABLES OF DISTANCES AND ELEVATIONS WEST OF THE
OLORADO RIVER) TO SAN
)-
same Dtances fam a
Feet. ; Miles. Miles.
1,159 To Sacramento Springs 22 22
2,579 Piute Pass (Summit) 18 40
675 Chomeuvis Pass 2 fase ees 26 76
530* Sink of Perry Basin ve owe
1,000 Crater Station ...... 14 90
1,200 Eevee be 20 110
1,700F 10 120
2,100T rater Pace ( (Sanit) 16 135
1,900f Malpa: 10 145
2,375 J Ijave Leon 25 170
2,388 Desert Lake ........ 30 200
3,080 d aiees foot ch Sierra Nevada ........ 35 235
4,008 Tehacha va PO oe ees 15 250
2,020 Biv: Powit iss HA as OE 20 270
> DIU LOU sane err nnee
795 Tulare noni SAT 15 es
700f j tan Vista 35 =
700+ Polverd. 6.955 75 pd :
2,1007 f beri of Coast Range (San Benito Pass) 2 —
fie Gilro
San José...... 30 os
-San Francisco 50
* Line does not descend to level of sink,
+ Estiniated.
No. 2.—THE CHALAMA ROUTE.
i Local From
‘ghee above Distances from Distances. | Colorado Riv.
ide,
Feet Miles. 0
4,008 Summit of armen Wile ie m a
2,020 To tal a Porites ee ee +4 phe
795 iy of Sierra Nevada .....-.- ns =
700 Beam V Aehe ocinscche dated coenee et Gee
1,500 to 2,000 | Chalama Pass Sapna of Coast Hiange) - ge
oe Forks of Estrella CERO ee EEE Cer ee 18 400
: Mouth of Estrella ;
‘ San einen — (Head o "Salinas ae 430
won ets Saexeeevitewerres re rs 488
o. Pe ee ae BB adiehud ogeer cba ts 12
: Head of Pajaro Valley. Svedeeuretess . ~ 613
vine 1
ay Gi : BP Pe ee et ding olceel era ; 30 543
completed San Jub er are ce Cee oa pond
868. FE Rr CEL ea
310 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
No. 3.—PANOCHE GRANDE ROUTE.
mde “ Distances from : istaeoce Colorado Riv.
Miles, Miles.
Pe 008 Te chapa Summit ........... Se eee ‘ “ 260
2, 020 aOR Poittiesig tee pe 20 270
95 Western foot of ‘Sierra 2: 15 285
700* Point of Buena Vista Lake............ 26 311
ag North Point * — TARO eeiees 66 377
Be Pose ae eg ee a2 399
ty Panoche Grande Oreek.........,...... 23 422
2,200 Panoche Grants a (Summit of Coast
yf EES Cee re ee 22 444
: Ly eee ee een ety oa ere 19 463
WAVES SCN er eee ie Cis See ee 27 490
ae Bais Sous See re eee ee CORES 30 520
Tide-water. San jim) iSorresprere et here i 50 570
No, 4——TULARE VALLEY ROUTE * (EAST SIDE).
alle «eats Distances from Tharusoes. Girone Riv.
Feet, Miles. Miles,
4,008 Tehachapa Summit .................... ae 250
795 To west cat of Sieg Nevada: 3s: *35 285
mei ea ec Sn ee 292
; Posey Geek Poo s neve eelen ee ees yu '6 i 9 301
MNO En eee e Fo 5, 24 325
d Deer Cred 0. ee 15 340
i EEE ee ae 6 345
bene Steak dinchin scaie guinea e Chere cvs ae 20 865 |
meee 4 369 4
i Packvood( AN a 3 372 ;
SV ee Oe Ciena le potas 2 374
22 Stockton oR VEN EV Sr eee nee rin sie vs 180 554
Tide-water, Rat Premise ec 79 633
PACHECO PASS PER AND EAST SIDE OF TULARE VALLEY.* q
ee Visalia pied a ctl Seach JH ih al ota A er ea eee ee ee 374
ne momen s Eivey 2 ioc) cee es EM 23 397
ue > Secchi oe a is 2 Nae 38 435
ne San Luis Ranche (eastern foot of Pacheco
WO iy oc ig oe ee 62 497
‘ OOO TOM 502
« Holes’. : waien foot of Pacheco
het BEET CO nee tee 510
oe Gilroy ... illite re GaP epee oa 20 530
ae piano schirerpssresh ee ee tpecee 80 610
* The line w would be shorter, more cheaply ot oak ee ne Jewe Hah to interruption :
ae eal. se of Telare Valey, but would not develop it tacos < well —
west side being dry and w a ve to |
APPENDIX.
No, 5.—SAN DIEGO BRANCH.
311
a above Distances from Di tes. fades Bl
Feet. Miles. Miles.
675 Chemehuevis bos Cal. (Junction es San :
eeevoevevuveeevewreeeere of 6
530 To Crater (sink of eke Basin) oss 4% cs 2 88
600* << Pass) ae eee . 8 96
1,140* Poms 6 102
1 500* ucky da 4 106
Quartz Point 1 107
2,000* Summit of Bullion Range ‘Ca Diego
‘ Pass 6 113
1,500* Morongo Basin 10 123
(Morongo poe estimated elevation 1,300
to 1,500 feet) - Ss
lope Rid ge 8 131 si
Bunch Grass Mountain ........ 4 135
2,327* Morongo Pass (S it) .. eehce ica eee 10 145
1,677* Head of Morongo Cai 3 148
1,201* Foot of Morongo Cafion »(Coakla econnads 7 155
1,101 te “ ms Gorgonia 10 165
2,808 San nia Pass (Summi sear Wyk ewer 22 187
Tide-water. San n Diogo (distance , estimated on ett
miles) 100 287
severe esoerererere
Distance from Colorado River to San Bernardino, 213 miles; elevation, 1,118 feet
above tide. (Valley of Santa Anna.)
2 Estimated.
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ost | s90'% | s86T | SrLT | s6r'T | 100T | — or6 es os ; < DA >
= "219 [8T :
o 686: | L8¢‘s | Lose | eo6'e | eIL'c | gees sts | 6cT'e | 660% | BreT | eaL‘t “** YIOK MON
7, 691g | Lore | Luss | estic | east | gent go8'T 66aT | 696T | SIT'T | ¢68 = o@uoryg |, “dep eseyy pun ‘oa ues
feet | Boot | Save | St | Sort | Soe! | tet | S| far | Ge | Se Set
0 . eeeeee ji
q : ‘odrjeg uBg ; —* PLA *8 ;
yeo's | gie‘e | secs |, 186'% | Let's | 11% est'e | ezt's | 660’ | stat | gent | gpety | cee sen
e Fels | eerie | Gove | Lelie | Loet | rerT | - esett 66z'T | 69G'T | STITT | 68 Sgp | Ssheeum ps aah : ‘dep eso pus ‘eyapey
186‘ kd Sere | PGT | POUT | SOE'T PTT 980T | 990°T | S06 | 089 | org | vs emor agt| f MORO stiefo, “urejunOpY HOPE
4 wrt 699 | GIFT | 866 ye Hs 118 18h ogo SOF Bites eke Ayo svsuny mye
gco’e | pre‘e | F9z'e | 6to'e | eoL‘e | t1¢'¢ 68'S 6ct'2 | 660° | sre‘t | gent ‘ |
E 922% rise Pere | 6st's | |e6't | I8F‘T 698‘ eect | 69'T | SII'T | 68 ag OOK Ht “yoo19 ofiprnma pure
i ~ e10% | Tos tees 9L6'T | 9eL'T | g9e'T aut 930'T | 990'T | 906 089 CLE “+ gmor ig J MORO suiofay ‘urmjunoyy uO
: a) T | 980° | JOLT | T9F'T | 866 118 118 1st | 089 | sop mt | sees Kg gesUByy PA ‘T
TWA | “SOTA | *S@IAL | “SOTEAL | “seit | ‘Serr ia SOTA | “SOHAL | “82TH | “Sort | ‘sorry
4 218 '
re) c4 a pH °
» | s eds) i ee 3) Bs Ss]
) ° 2 2 4 ~ °
p | E | aera] eee] se | ete] oF | GBI ey | 2 | oF
Ee gee i 258 Fy ¥ es F nowy ‘manog
Le
4 alfa | de lPip| fl prl er] |B]
S g | $88) 88 | 58 8] “| 4
‘peang foo 7 ‘obnng. wus Pun ‘oowowoag wog “y20x voy
vg Y19e pun honpwy oyfiong svsuny hq ung youn ung ‘y10x many usoayeg ssounsur fo NQvy, waoue:
APPENDIX. 313
TABLES OF DISTANCES THROUGH SONORA AND CHIHUAHUA.
Wai.
From Camp Grant to Tucson (west of Sierra Santa Catarina)...... 54 miles.
No. 2.
To Oneida la Station «........00, 11-10 Wood, water, and grass.
= reais ees No wood ; ae water, grass.
Pecacho int of mountain 39-10 Wood, water, an .
oo =o Water, wood; no grass.
74:90
314
NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
No. 3.—DISTANCES FROM TUCSON TO THE PORT OF LIBERTAD (GULF
OF CALIFORNIA) vid ARIVACA, Z’AZABE, AND ALTAR
Masor D. FERGUSSON, U.S.
MeEAsuRED BY
From Miles, Sr |
Mission of San — del Bac | 8°89 ss Good road-; wood, weer, and grass
El aT ViQjO weevercene. 1 10°60 | Good road; wood, water, and grass
Punto del Agu “79 < Good road ; wood, Mbps and grass.
Sahuarito, or F Columbus pitees SF 77 | Good road ; wood, water. grass
Roade’s anc He ceive vee 8 ood road ; wi ter, and grass
ey ee 2° +15 | Good road ; wood, water, gra
Reventon, or Kitchen’ sRanche | 2° : ood od, water, and grass
ri Cho: ier sie b Bie 5°70. )*83 | Good road ; wood, water, and gra
ae Venom: iivewe roe 11° 51: Good road; wood, water, and grass
7:76 r Good road; wood, water, and grass.
Laos Alamos or Old Arivaca. . 2 )-45 | Good road; wood, , and grass
Covodepe Cuesta .......... 6° 65-58 | Good road ; wood, water, and
Spring in the bed of Arroyo | 5: ‘97 | Good road; wood; water scarce.
8-62 59 | Good ro wood, water, and grass.
Charco de los Mesquites .... | 674 iy No water,
oe TRE AS es 08 }
arco 4°58 )'67 | Water, wood, and grass.
Rancheria 2-27 | 92-93 | Good grass.
Forks of Road. oe. 0 ees 50 3°43
Forks of Roads 55 ove os ve es 35 3°78
Ascent to Mesa ........000 95 4°73
Tinaja, ‘or Charco’.... 6.55%: 6°39 | 101:12 | Water, wood, and grass
TOE EATOOON GR. Se ewes 15-0 116:13 | Good road; wood, water, and grass
wrastis MAR: o 234s ceteris ie 3 14°73 | 130°86 | Good road; water, wood; grass scarce.
IGE SEE estes cae ieee s 8:58 | 139-44 | Good road; grass scarce; wood, w
Dry Arroyoeewie sere ers 4:05 | 143°49 | Good :
Road or Zepoias Ranche . 6°20 | 149°69.| Good road.
Peotor HU. on cea 2°23 | 151-92 | Good hard road
Son mito Hil evs ee Gaewae *36 | 152°28
1°16 | 153:44 | Good hard road; wood, water, grass.
Cine and Caborca Road 7-59 | 161-03 | Good hard road.
: ; ( Good hard road; be water in dry
Raguna Moma ois iccecins 5°00 | 166:03 {season ; good gr
_— de Aquituna,......... 6-58 | 172-61 | { Good level road; wood and grass
on (dry arroyo) .... | 2°97 | 175°58 | Good road; wood and grass.
Tine ‘del ae eis : Bg aes *39 | 182:97 | Water. wee : : ooth ane grass
Gongalos’ Mill 030.545 1:23 7°43 | { scarce; water abundant. :
El a Realito:: 252.45 1°94 smooth road.
PI ict: 8°48 17°85 | Hard road; some grass, wood, water.
San ta ‘Ter ot vee 4:13 | 21-98 | Good road; grass, wood, and water.
First Crossing of River .... “61 | 22°59 | Good hard road.
River Bottom......0:.5. ds see 85 | 23-44 | Sandy road.
La Pee vies sts bere “91 | 24:3
Tubatama 1:56 25-91 | Fair road.
Ford of River .......3%%%% -30 26-21
Rec MN sees “4 26°67
PAE ee ee 52 27°19
Descent Valley Su Sh ee 1:46 28°65
ANEW IAS *85 29-50
Top Py ripened! anat 111 | 30-61
Top of Hill near Estancio 1:97 | 31-68
El Estancio (Rancho) .,.... 48 | 32°16 { etd a
Van Alstine’s Ranche ...... 114 3% water, and grass abundant.
OFES Of Road osscye ee ) re
aboc Hil seve 1:87 3s
Babocomari Ranche........ 1:27 ‘
afion de Quimori ........ 3-58 z
Bric, or Zarie 6.65 esses é grass, water.
Rough road ; wood and water.
road ; wood, water, grass.
Hard level road ; , water.
Good level road ; wood, water, grass.
ine level road; water, w grass.
Road good and hard ; penn we
Steep hill; fine .
Water in spring; fine grass, wood.
Gum, oe road tortuous and stony.
Fair
Bond yooky and winding ; no water.
Good road ; fine grass, wood, water.
318 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
No. 9.—ROUTES PRACTICABLE FOR A RAILWAY TO GUAYMAS, WITH
COMPUTED DISTANCES _— RAILROAD PASS AND SACATON.
les.
Ist. From Railroad Pass, vid Rio San Pedro, Cocospera, Imures, Hermosillo. . 428
2nd. From , aera Pass, vid Cienega de los Pimas, Rio Santa Cruz, T Tubac,
Stik FAGPNOMO se eo iin 6k6 EWN ps doa eka oss 418
3rd. From Ratton es vid Cienega de los Pimas, Arivaca, Z’ Azabe Valley, se
rhonilley "yore ee ea NT LITER ees ce... 4
4th. From Sheetie (Rio Gila), vid Cababi Mines, Fresnal, Altar, Hermosillo., 394
No. 10.-TOTAL DISTANCE FROM NEW YORK TO SAN DIEGO AND
GUAYMAS,
By 32nd parallel to Scans ei
es.
New * Seti to Kansas 1,318
to Rio Granite (between Alb uerque and Isletta) 799
To Fort To Fort Goi eo “: 102
0 on AI rae +. 204
Laheshdisinasmme 26ers 46
SUNS SCS ee ed ls g ic kees pees ole AN Co ee 58
Calabasas , 4 eee F
Se OM ety ies ies eee 8
Pic cuien sy eeees 49
Se OE TO errr cere. Il
woman ee Cpe es Cee Bae pee ove Le ee ches 110
SRF Weee er CUS Tiwine Cueshe ed Tomek fe oF Ok he ol ries 86
POM Visitas reckons ee 2,804
By 35th parallel from New York to San Diego .......4............, . 2,997
By 32nd parallel from New York to San Dine (by Warner’ 8 Pass) . ie 96
No. 11—DISTANCES FROM JANOS pean TO OJO DE VACA
(NEW ME Mr.
XICO). Furnisnep py F THE Mexican BounDARY
Commission.
From Miles. -Total Miles.
CHIHUAHUA,
- APPENDIX.
vid
319
No. 12. _DISTANCES chee MESILLA, NEW MEXICO, TO THE CITY OF
EL PASO
Mrasurep By Mason DAVID
FERGUSSON, First aioe CALIFORNIA VOLUNTEERS.
From Miles. a
to:
OF ees eee 6°65 ve Fair road.
Texas Boundary Line...... 17-00 | 23°65 | Fair road; wood, water, and grass.
Hart’ oe Perey er ya es 19°53 43:18 | Fai ir road.
pieantklin Oooo eo es 1:20 | 44-38 | Wood, water, and grass procurable.
... ae los Indios 402 9-79 | 6417 | Good hard r oad ; water and wood.
cde nee 11:84 | 66-01 | Good hard road; emia
Point of a Sista foe Ga 6°52 72°53 | Good hard road ;
MORIA PUCR s/c view ie cece 9-00 | 81:53 | Goodroad, good grass, hon sacieaie:
Top of iw “Hl cee ieee 3°22 84:75 gram en rou
LUG cs ices pears 1°05 85°80
End of Meadow........+0: 371 -| 89°61 Road many: ; wood and grass.
Dry Camp 158 | 91°09 Road noe ats a A ; no water;
El Lucero 29-06 | 120-15 |{ "as Road sandy ; wood, water, and grass
- Laguna.....6.seseeern 5-88 | 126-03 { Good onal ong and wood ; warm
CON pangpeutnae fan enre peeneee 15°04 | 141-07 | Road level ; eras, wo wood, and water.
Ore c Calic WLO eran cal es 11°52 | 152:59 | Road level; goo wood, water.
Arroyo a Carmen jn cc5500 1:43 | 154:02 | Good road.
Dity Cainyy cic iew ines 22:58 | 176°60 | Good road through grass valley.
Sillags: iv eaadins eae te 19°58 | 19618 |{ & Sater pint ae ae at
Dry Camp 11:42 | 207-60 | Fine hard phat wood and grass.
Forks of Encenillas ........ vi 214°93 ond level ro Freres ne
Arroyo del Sauz 3... ...0005 24°53 | 239:46 G e et
PAMOLILO. 454 say vbevoweeee 3-34 | 24280 | Good level road ; grass and water.
El Sauz 614 | 248-94 | Good ihe at grass and aes
road; grass abundant ;
Phoramionto. .46..4.s0anes 13°87 | 262-81 — aoe
El Salitre 8°87 | 271°68 | Fine hard = road ; grass scarce.
Chihu 8:23 Fine hard sm th road.
ee
279°91
APPENDEX .C,
PHOTOGRAPHY.
As by far the greater proportion of travellers who start on their journeys
thoroughly acquainted with the art, I will here give the formule which were
written out for me by my friend Mr. Browne, and which did me good service
all through my trip. I am sure. they will be found most useful to those who
desire to take views of what they see, and are, like myself, unacquainted with
photography.
THE GLASS,
Take off the sharp edges by rubbing them against each other. Clean with
water and wipe dry, then rub with alcohol and flannel, and polish with a silk
uster. Brush off the dust with a camel’s-hair brush.
THE COLLODION.
Pary’s gun-cotton, 73 grains to the ounce of mixture,
NEGATIVE BATH.
wate witeele Of Miver. 65 45 grains.
Water
Add 5 grains of iodide of silver, or let a coated plate remain in the bath over-
night; make it very slightly acid with pure nitric acid, Filter. q
Cae ee ee ee Rea eae Ow ee eo oe
| In warm weather add equal parts of cold water, to reduce the strength of the j
APPENDIX. 321 |
After developing with iron, should the negative not be strong enough to
print, wash well, and pour over it the following solution of citrate of silver :—
Cinie eld See a eee .... 80 grains.
ric acid
Nitrate of silver. . ccs co Uae aa 6k Whig oF 0 ey etin ee i
Water a
se
‘To strengthen a negative, pour from the stock bottle about half an ounce
of citrate of silver into a small bottle, flow it over the plate, drain (the solution
may be used several times), and redevelop with iron developer; in warm
se this must. be done in the dark room. By this treatment the
place.
print without losing the middle
negative will quickly be made strong enough to
tints. Wash well and fix.
FIXING SOLUTION.
Hyposulphate of soda, saturated solution.
PRINTING PROCESS.
SILVER SOLUTION,
DE OE REN eee ee
_ never adding silver alone, :
. s to the ounce of water, also increasing ne ene
alcohol. This isd to ent a large bulk of solution,
: vos ba but each had a
4 tendency to become clouded. :
4 e great recommendation of this process for amateurs 18; that the bath
_ May be put aside for one month or twenty; at either time it will be ice
_ perfectly clear and ready for use, only requiring filtering as ® —
prudence, there being a very slight deposit in the bottom of the bottle after
ding. : ‘
Float the papers from one to three minutes; it will answer for either plain
or albumen papers. Dry perfectly, and expose to the fumes of ammonia for
ten minutes.
TONING.
For the last five years I have entirely given up the use of chloride of gold
stalli stn using instead an acid solution of gold, prepared in the
crea nat : Having obtained e solution of metallic gold, of » Known
Lu. ¥
. 322 NEW TRACKS IN NORTH AMERICA.
like syrup, then dilute with water, in the proportion of 1 grain of
the drachm of water; filter, and it will be ready for use. No change or
precipitation of gold can take place, so that the bottle is always in good order.
amount, in aqua regia, evaporate in a sand-bath until the solution appears
1
TONING BATH.
Warm water .
Unioride of gold 3. iiss PAW es ee 2 drachms.
Neutralise carefully with ammonia. Do not get an excess, or the prints will
be liable to blister, then add 30 grains of ‘salt.
ash the prints well before toning, then place them in a dish of warm
water, putting half-a-dozen at a time into the toning bath. Almost any colour
desired may be obtained.
Of all the many toning processes given to the public—some very complicated
improved by the addition of a small quantity of nitrate of uranium.
chemical is, however, tricky and unreliable. Wash for half an hour, and fix.
FIXING SOLUTION. Ss
When the hyposulphate is dissolved, add to it three or four drops of ether ;
wash thoroughly, If possible, use warm water in the last washing.
* * ~ * * * *
The climate in which I worked was usually so dry that I had to use my
bss]
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8
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printing ; and what I gained by strengthening, I lost again by rewashing with
the bad water. Such negatives should be kept as they are, and never destroyed,
for they are the very best from which to take sunlight enlargements afterwards,
en my bromide of cadmium failed, I replaced it with iodide of potassium,
and obtained quite as good results with landscapes, with the advantage of
ving & more permanent collodion. The softest pictures were, however, from
the bromide of magnesium collodion, although this will not keep more than a
THE END,
PRINTED BY VIRTUE AND CO., CITY ROAD, LONDON.
RY ae eS ne ee
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May, 1869.
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Anasta a Dolby, formerly Embroidress to the Queen. Fcap. 4to.
E2S.
Eight designs for frontals and super-frontals are ** There is much to admire in the result of
given, and. an coated | of working them is en wot s sage ag her taste is = enough to lead
= right direction; she understands
for. Some of the medieval designs here pied o oralt 6 f the needle to ction, and writes
imitated are of great beauty and cies oat th a seal of a mistress of the subject ”—A the-
monograms which —- = eae 6 eserving
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