FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[27]It is an odd thing that cow-boys, particularly Texans, will wear, if they can get them, boots with heels that would look ridiculous even on a Parisiancocotte.[28]Condition.[29]Fond of it.[30]The cattle that an employé could steal for his master.[31]An unbranded motherless calf.

[27]It is an odd thing that cow-boys, particularly Texans, will wear, if they can get them, boots with heels that would look ridiculous even on a Parisiancocotte.

[28]Condition.

[29]Fond of it.

[30]The cattle that an employé could steal for his master.

[31]An unbranded motherless calf.

"We havegotto go to the Double Adobes anyhow, so why not go to-day?" I said, after breakfast, as I stood at the door of the Gray Place.

"Why not?" observed the Don. "If wecanonly get well started before night—which doesn't seem likely, at the rate you fellows stand still—we shall very likely manage to get soaked through, and have to camp on the plain in wet clothes, by the look of the sky over there."

"That'll be all right; I am not frightened at a little rain," said I, laughing.

"That settles it, then," rejoined the Colonel. "We shall have to go now, whether or no. This Englishman can't bluff us worth a cent. Murray! tell the boys not to turn the little black mules outto grass; and I guess you'd better come over with us, and see how old Tommy is fixing up that new spring he found back of Pigpen's place."

It was about sixteen miles to the Double Adobes ranch, and since, after all, it did not rain on our way thither, the drive was very enjoyable. The Colonel's rheumatism being somewhat better, he was in great spirits, and told a score of good tales as we went along, only one of which recurs to me at the present moment. That one, however, I will jot down at once lest it be forgotten also.

"Well," said Don Cabeza, something having given him his cue, "a lot of youngsters were collected, one Sunday afternoon, round a badger hole in which there was a mighty obstinate old badger—one of these old toughs that you could knock sparks out of with a hammer. Anyhow, the young sports had put all their swell imported terriers in to him, and the old badger had come out on top every time—at least, he hadn't 'come out' on top, because he hadn't come out at all; but when he and the dogs got to chewing one another underground, he appeared to have away ahead the finest appetite. It seemed he had enough patterns of hide down there for old Ma'am Badger to make acrazy quilt of; and the boys were just about to quit when a chap who was standing by looking on said, kind o' sadly:

"'I guess, misters, that my old dog 'd fetch that badger out for you—if you want him out, that is.'

"The stranger was one of these plank-shaped citizens, with shiny hair, like sea-weed; he was a coffee-coloured cuss, and looked as melancholy as a sick monkey. His clothes might have been entailed clothes, in which the family had lived for centuries; and the mongrel was about as nearly like his master as a dog could be. Well, sir, the young bucks took a look at them both, and the more they looked, the more they laughed. The notion thatthatcur could beat all their finely-bred, imported terriers, just tickled them to death; and first one, and then another, and finally the whole boiling of them offered to bet twenty, thirty, forty to one against him—anything the owner liked, in fact. But they couldn't bluff the old man off; he stayed with them; he seemed to have more money along, too, than you'd expect to find in such old clothes. And the more the boys kept sousing it to him, the more he kept taking 'em, till finally they quit. And when the bets were all laid outon a big stone, there was more money there than would patch hell a mile!

"Well, they stood around to see the fun. It was pretty clear that some one was going to fall awful sick before the deal was over. However, the visitor didn't seem like he thought that it was going to be he. He picked the mongrel up and stroked him tenderly, and the old dog winced a little mite too, as if he could see a chapter or so ahead of him. 'Put him in,' said the boys, 'put him in!' 'Right now, gentlemen,' said the stranger, and stooping down he prized him gently into the earth—stern first. Well, sir, you should have heard those boys laugh when they saw that. Laugh? Well, I should say they did laugh. For a minute or two the old dog lay there with his head out of doors—one eye fixed reproachfully on his master, the other cocked anxiously backwards. Then, all of a sudden there was a terrific yelp, and a cloud of dust, and he shot out of the hole with the badger fastened on to him. And for the life of you, you couldn't have told which looked the most foolish—the young sports, or the old badger. As for the stranger, he raked in the bets, and when he'd got alittle way off, he turned around as if he'd forgotten something, and says he, mournfully: 'Boys—Misters, I'm from Pecos county, Texas. I'm on'y a schoolteacher thar, but they all know me. Shuf's my name—Eb'neezer Shuf—ask for "Joyful" Shuf.'

"'We're coming to call to-morrow,' said the boys."

The Double Adobes, one of the four occupied ranch houses in the valley, was prettily situated at the base of the Peak, and near the mouth of a gorge that penetrated the Animas range. During the rainy season a considerable stream threaded this pass, but at the present time its bed was dry. A number of cotton-wood trees dotted its banks, and surrounded some neighbouring springs; and, beneath their shade, hundreds of cattle that had come in to water at the latter, were standing, in a condition of complete oblivion, drowsily switching their flanks, licking the boulders of rock-salt which had been placed there for their use, or lying on the cool earth, chewing the cud, in dreamy idleness.

In the shade of a giant cotton-wood (whose trunk bore the carved initials of more than one well-known "rustler" who had since passed in his checks), stood the little mud-coloured hut, dignifiedby the title of ranch house. To the right of it was a circular corral, stoutly constructed of juniper posts; to the left of it, a rail, furnished with pegs, to which the bridles of nags in waiting might be linked; and, not far off, lay a pile of dead fire-wood from the hills. A gleaming axe-head stuck in the chopping log, and in the carpet of dry chips around it were stretched two large mongrels, red and white respectively in colour, but totally indistinguishable in type. The brilliant sunlight of the winter's noon fell on the cabin—dingy, flat-topped, and unlovely, and probably accentuated all its bad points. On a bench outside the door was a tin basin and some soap; hard by stood a tin pail. If you care to remove the dust from your hands and face after the drive, there are the springs—fenced in there by split posts! Take the pail down, old chap, and fetch yourself some water. To wait upon yourself is good for you, they say; at any rate, it is a little compliment that nearly everybody pays himself in this country, and certain it is that constant advantages are to be derived from the practice which are not obtainable in any other way.

As the Double Adobes is a rather typical ranchcabin of the smaller class, it will be as well, perhaps, to describe it. Adobes, of course, are unbaked bricks, for the manufacture of which the bottom earth of the country is peculiarly adapted. They are generally made about 6 x 14 x 24 inches. A space having been marked out for three rooms of about 18 x 16 feet, to compose the present house, the two end rooms had been completed, the space between them being left open, save inasmuch as it was covered in by the roof which ran from end to end of the whole building. The two rooms had originally opened into theportièrein the centre, but the entrance to the one which was inhabited had since been changed to the front of the house. The roof was flat and consisted of brush-wood covered with mud, and supported by pinevigas. As only two men were living here, they occupied one room, and kept their stores in the other.

Come inside;—there is no one here; both the boys are out. Yes, judging from those poker drawings on the door, artistic talentisat a low ebb; but, until lately, it has been accounted of more importance in this country to draw a straight bead than a straight line. Loop-holed! Well, the men who built this place expected occasionally to have to "stand off"irate Mexicans who had followed stolen stock into the valley, and, even now, it is impossible to say with certainty that a band of skulking Apaches will not turn up in its vicinity to-morrow. There is one small window through which light may be admitted; but, as a rule, the shutter is closed, and the cabin illuminated through the open door. The floor is of beaten clay, and the wide, open fireplace is built in one corner of the room. A pile of logs, some brush-wood, and a broken-handled axe lie near it. On the hearth are some dog-irons, the ashes of the breakfast fire, and a Dutch-oven. The walls in this corner are decorated with frying-pans, and other cooking utensils, all scrupulously clean, be it observed.[32]"And," as old Herrick says:

"... to your more bewitching, see the proud,Plumpe bed beare up, a-swelling like a cloud."

"... to your more bewitching, see the proud,

Plumpe bed beare up, a-swelling like a cloud."

In opposite corners of the room are two roughly-carpentered frame bedsteads, in which a lacing of raw-hide stripes supplies the place of laths andmattresses, a few blankets constitute the bedding, and folded great-coats serve for the pillows. In the fourth corner is the table, covered with burnt tracings of brands, but beautifully clean, for it is washed every day. Hard by is a sack of flour, near it hang a side of bacon and the hind-quarters of an antelope, and on the neighbouring shelves are a few tins of canned tomatoes, some plates and cups, and a coffeepot, etc. Canvas garments, leather overalls, old boots, old saddles, carbines, old carbine and revolver scabbards, a spade, and innumerable odds and ends lie about in a very wreck of order. If the gentle housewife ruled here, they would all be tucked away under the bed, to moulder with other accumulations of litter and dirt. Here and there, about the room, stand upright posts affording extra support to the roof. And to these are nailed a few horns of antelope, black or white-tail deer, from which cartridge-belts,lariats, bridles,hackamores, quirts, spurs, and an old canteen depend. The bowl of a briar-root pipe is stuck on the end of one prong, a newspaper is transfixed on another, and an empty whisky-bottle sticks, bottom upwards, on a third. A three-legged stool, a crippled chair, and a coupleof empty grocery boxes, standing on end, complete the furniture.

We took possession of the premises, and proceeded to get lunch. But before we had finished doing so, "old Tommy" appeared in the doorway, pipe in hand, and feeling for a match. I know not why it should have been so, but Tommy always seemed to me to be pressing the last of a load of tobacco into the bowl of his dilapidated old pipe, with the forefinger of one hand, whilst, with the other hand, he felt somewhere about in the band of his canvas pants, probably in a watch-pocket there, for a match.

Here and there I have met many a gnarled old limb of humanity, but he was the driest that I ever encountered—"as dry as the remainder biscuit, after a voyage." Mummy dust would have been something of refreshing moisture by comparison with his nature. Tommy—what his surname may have been, it never occurred to me to wonder until this moment—Tommy was a sort of odd man in the valley. He repaired houses, corrals, or anything that required repairing, cleaned out the springs, dug troughs, or turned his hand to anything. He was about five feet four or five inches in height, spare of build, and as "wrinkles,the d——d democrats, won't flatter," his brown-crusty physiognomy showed him to be on the high road to sixty, if not already there. There was not very much of him, but what there was, was tough and of good material; he was a "worker;" he bore his years lightly, and liked nothing better than to get into a circle of young cow-punchers, and chin and josh[33]with them in his funereal fashion, as though he were their contemporary. And the boys liked old Tommy, too—all those, that is, who were worth anything. For the loafer and the braggart he "had no use," and, sooner or later, his acid tongue would be sure to embalm such an one's tendency or foible in some crisp epigram, or clinging irony.

No one in the neighbourhood, but he himself, knew the history of his past life. He claimed to be a Southerner, and it pleased him to say that, away back in some Southern State, he owned a small but prosperous farm, a good house, a beautiful wife, and all that the heart of man could desire. It appeared, however, that, during the war between North and South, he had joined the Southern army, and in the second day's fighting in the Wilderness had beenwounded. He recovered sufficiently to return home, but he was no longer the man he had been. His wife, impatient of having a permanent, though only partial, invalid about the place, became estranged from him, and finally Tommy, having induced a robust young neighbour to undertake the management of the farm on half profits, with touching resignation had sallied forth alone into the great West world to reconstruct his fortune. Time had deprived his misfortunes of their sting, he said; and if he now told the tale of it with less emotion than had been the case formerly, this deficiency was compensated for in effect, by the artistic modesty, resulting from long practice, with which he threw out, and reluctantly allowed a veiled hint to be developed by the curious questioner into the whole history. Successively he had excited the sympathy of all the ranch wives in the country, by enlarging upon this sad immolation of connubial felicity on the altar of patriotism.

Tommy's sole possession was a donkey—aburro, I should say (for, amongst the many Spanish words that have become naturalised in New Mexico,burrois one of the most universally adopted). And a magnificentburrohe was, too—the finest and fattestthat I ever saw. Sancho Panza and Dapple were not gifted with greater individuality than were Tommy and "John L. Sullivan." Numerous and tempting though the offers were that were made for him, they were always scornfully rejected, for, as the somewhat sarcastic owner would often ask:—What would it profit him if he gained the whole world, and lost the society of hisburro?Burroand master were bosom friends. In moments when the relations between them were most strained, when they differed in intention almost to the point of open rupture, Tommy would only ask sorrowfully whether it were the perverse John's desire to force him to sell him for a riding horse to a New York dude. But such little family breezes were hushed up, and, as a rule, the spirit which marked their intercourse was sweet and calm.

Long and serious were the confabulations which these two held together. In all the news of the day, local, foreign, personal, or political, Tommy religiously kept the ass posted, and gravely consulted with him about it. He was wont to remark that, were every man as fortunate in his counsellor as he was, the affairs of the world would be much better managed than they were.

I am uncertain what theburro's politics were; some of the boys asserted that he was a Mugwump; whatever he may have been nominally, however, party ties sat lightly on him, and his decisions were extremely independent. I often regretted, when I heard his commanding voice away off on the hillside, that a debater and orator so admirably fitted to lead in our own House of Commons at that time (1885) should be lost to the Ministerial benches. It was, indeed, a sad case that one who "could have given the odds of two brays to the greatest and most skilful brayer in the world, for his tones were rich, his time correct, his notes well sustained, and his cadences abrupt and beautiful," should have been born to waste his persuasive voice on the desert air.

Major Tupper was quartered once at the Cloverdale ranch when "John L. Sullivan" and his master were there; and one evening whilst we were at supper, Tommy entered, looking graver than usual, if possible.

"I've just been talking to John, Major," he observed.

"Oh! and what does theburrosay, Tommy?"

"He's awful scared that this Indian war's going to end."

"It don't matter much to him anyway."

"Oh, yes, it does," drawled Tommy, in his slowest and gravest fashion. "Oh, yes—John knows better'n that. Just as soon as Geronimo[34]comes in, he knows that he'll lose his corn and have to go to chewing grass for a living, along of the cows. Of course as long as your pack-train is here, he can go down to the picket line whenever the bugle sounds for 'stables,' kick the padding out of one of your mules, and eat up his feed."

"Can he? Well, if he can kick anything out of a Government mule, he's a daisyburro, and he's welcome to all he makes by it; he can keep any change he gets, too."

Nevertheless, this was a fact. No sooner were "stables" over and the mules fed, than "John L. Sullivan" swaggered down the front of the picket line, selected a helping of maize, turned round, backed a little towards the owner of it, measuring his distance carefully, and landed him a tremendous double savat on his nose. He continued to kick until the neighbouring mules formed an orderly though envious and admiring congregation, ranged in a semicircle,straining at their halters, around him. Then having described, as atour de force, a few unusually surprising and altogether inimitable hieroglyphics with his heels in the air in a spirit not entirely free, it must be admitted, from ostentation, he would proceed peaceably to appropriate the spoils of war. Well might his owner be proud of him! "John L. Sullivan" was indeed "the boss!"

One day Tommy visited the farrier's quarters in camp, and intimating that he wanted theburroshod, sought through the contents of box after box of shoes there. Unable apparently to find what he required, he was leaving in silence, when the farrier commented on his departure, and regretted that his search had been unsuccessful.

"Oh, it's all right, Mr. Gorham," he said politely, "it doesn't matter; I thought you'd got somesilvershoes, perhaps."

Witman and Johns, two of the hands, reflected disparagingly once on the quantity of work that Tommy had done lately.

"Well," rejoined Tommy, in his most deliberate tone, addressing the rest of the company, "there's Jim Witman here; of course I don't give up so muchof my leisure to work as he does, that ain't to be expected; and there's Oliver Johns, I don't claim to direct others how to do my work for me as well as he does either. But then, in the first place, my business ain't sitting under a stoop chewing other people's baccy; and in the second, I don't want to get away and shoot off my mouth at every gal, with a head like a pisened pup, that lives within fifty miles of the valley, so there ain't any necessity for any one to do my work."

In the adjoining valley dwelt a man named Donohoe, who had the reputation of always professing to know better than anybody else how anything should be done. How far he was justified in his professions I cannot pretend to say. Tommy knew and disliked Mr. Donohoe. He had put the finishing touch one day to a spring that he had been cleaning out, stone-lining, and fencing round, and was gathering up the tools that he had been using for this purpose. "And now," he remarked in the most matter-of-fact way possible, "I think I'll just ride theburroover into the Plyas Valley, and tell Mr. Donohoe what I've been doing, and ask him if I've done it right."

I am sorry that, of the many really good things said by this interesting old gentleman which were current in the valley, the foregoing feeble specimens are all (of a publishable nature) that I can now recall to mind. They will serve, however, to indicate the vein in which he ingratiated himself with his public. He exercised considerable freedom of speech; but then he was known to carry "a long crooked knife" about him somewhere, and was credited with plenty of nerve and a very hot temper.

We spent a couple of days at the Double Adobes ranch, inspected the new spring that Tommy had discovered, hunted a little in the hills round the base of old Animas Peak, rode over a good deal of the Pigpen and Double Adobes range, and finally returned to the Gray Place.

FOOTNOTES:[32]To find a really filthy ranch house, to see really filthy cooking and eating services, to have real garbage placed before you to eat, you must seek amongst establishments presided over by women.[33]Chat and joke.[34]The Apache leader.

[32]To find a really filthy ranch house, to see really filthy cooking and eating services, to have real garbage placed before you to eat, you must seek amongst establishments presided over by women.

[33]Chat and joke.

[34]The Apache leader.

At the Gray Place we found Lieut. Huse, who had come up from the supply camp at Lang's; and as he was returning on the following day, and we had decided sooner or later to go there also, we drove down together. Eighteen miles in the teeth of a wind that would have driven an old Dutch lightship, with only a jury-mast and a small flag set, at the rate of fifteen knots an hour. How it came roaring up the funnel of that valley out of the very heart of the great, mysterious Sierra Madre—steadily, obstinately, unyieldingly!

About eight miles before the Lang ranch was reached, and at the broadest point in the valley, we crossed a very curious dyke, or levee. Leaving the foot-hills, it stretched across to the valley plain, ina direct line, for about seven or eight miles, turned then at right angles, and ran straight down the valley for about ten miles, and with another bend at right angles rejoined the foot-hills. The space thus enclosed was perfectly flat, and lay slightly higher than the outside plain. At its base the levee was about 120 ft. broad, diminishing at the top to thirty or forty, which was raised about twenty-five above the surrounding levels. These dimensions were maintained throughout with perfect regularity, save at one point (in the south-western corner), where a small gap destroyed the completeness of the lines. The labour expended in its construction must have been enormous; and since it is hardly likely to have been built for defence (natural positions of so much greater strength abounding in the neighbourhood), and there is no reason to suppose that it was meant to exclude water, what was the object of it? Possibly it was intended toholdwater. Springs still exist within its boundaries, although, at the present date, they are comparatively insignificant. About eight miles off, in the Cojon Bonita, there are some warm springs at which a permanent stream takes its rise, however, and centres of aqueous, like centres ofvolcanic activity, are liable, I presume, to change. Many Aztec works of the kind mentioned occur in Mexico, although this, I believe, is of unusual magnitude. So far as I know, no satisfactory hypothesis has yet been started to account for the object of these enclosures.

It is certain that, at no very distant date, the whole of the territory now comprising Northern Mexico, New Mexico, and Arizona was thickly populated. The site of an Aztec village remains not far from the levee (at the Cloverdale ranch, in the south-western corner of the valley), where fragments of pottery are often found; and in digging a water-trench there not long since, the workmen discovered a large quantity of buried maize, which was black and partially petrified. But traces of a vanished population are found in all directions in the districts mentioned, and a curious question arises in connection with such evidence: How did these people live? Under existing circumstances the country referred to could not support a large population. The rainfall is not great enough to permit of crops being raised in the ordinary way, and the area of land suitable for irrigation is very limited. Can it have been that formerly the climatewas not what it is at present, and that the scarcity of rain is a deprivation of recent date? I believe it is claimed, and the claim substantiated by statistics, that, in proportion as population rolls out and settles on the western prairies, the rain-belt extends in that direction also. Something of this sort may have been the case here.

The influence of population indirectly on climate would be a curious study. In parts of Oregon it was frequently asserted in my hearing that the late spring frosts which once prevented fruit-growing there, had notably decreased since the country had been settled up, vanishing in some instances altogether. Amongst other extraordinary phenomena, bearing a relation to this subject possibly, is the fact that the agues and fevers prevalent on the Hudson River in early times, disappeared for a long while entirely, but within the last fifteen years have returned, and in places are now more common than ever.

But from Animas Valley to the Hudson River is a "far cry!" Where were we? No matter! Here we are at any rate, on the top of the levee, in a cloud of dust, the wind unabated, and the off-side horse (a good worker, but of uncertain temper) jibbing—jibbingas, fortunately, horses only do jib where the performance can be properly described without hurting anybody's sensibilities. For half-an-hour, exposed on this monument of Aztec industry, we were fully occupied in a battle royal with this monument of equine obstinacy. But without result, until, finally, having exhausted every other expedient, we bent a picket-rope round his fore-legs, and by sawing the inside of them vigorously with it succeeded in starting him again.

À propos, the very spot at which we crossed the dyke was the scene, a few months later, of a peculiarly cold-blooded murder. The proprietor of a canteen at the Lang camp was proceeding on horseback to Separ, when four of his familiars (camp loafers and gamblers), who lay in wait for him behind the dyke, rode down towards him as he approached and "held him up,"i.e., covered him with their six-shooters, and made him throw up his hands. He had about six hundred dollars with him, which he begged them to take without murdering him. But, notwithstanding this, and whilst he was in this defenceless position, one of them shot him through the side, the bullet traversing his pocket-book and marking the corner of each note. Theytook his money, and he having entreated them in his agony "to finish him," one of them shot him through the head. In this condition he lived until a teamster carried him into camp, and although too exhausted to say much, he was able to furnish the names of his murderers. They were all men that he had more or less assisted, but it transpired subsequently that he had expected them to make an attempt on his life. The gang divided and fled to Mexico, where they reunited, and one of them winning at poker the whole of the sum they had taken, was shot by his companions. One was captured and brought back to the States; one was shot soon afterwards in a horse-stealing scrape; and the fourth was still at large when I left the neighbourhood.

No one was sorry when the drive was over, and having knocked some of the dust off our clothes, we walked up from the ranch house to the camp, where we found a hearty and hospitable welcome in Huse's shanty.

Comfortable chairs! and newspapers! and blanket carpeting! a fire-place, mantelpiece, looking-glass, pipe-rack, shelf of poets and novels, and, what! an Irish setter!—a well-bred one too! It was likemeeting a friend from the old country to find that handsome red muzzle resting on one's knee.

"Halls of Montezuma!" ejaculated the Colonel in a reverential voice, as he took a seat and glanced round him, in the little adobe room, with its canvas roof and red calico decorations. "I have seen the Escurial, and Versailles, and the Vatican, and the Dolme Bagtche, and Windsor Castle, and lots of those little dug-outs 'over there,' but I'll be darned if this establishment of yours, Huse, don't knock any one of them gallywest!—gallywest, sir, that's what it does! It just dumps the filling out them!"

"Well, I'm lucky in my servant, Colonel. He was in the German army—servant to some big dog on the staff—and the consequence is that he knows a thing or two. He is an A 1 cook, and a good forager, and—in fact, this sort of thing is play to him after the discipline over there. This red rag and silver paper business, the pictures, and all that,hedid. He fixed up that mantelpiece with the red calico border—goodness knows where he got it from! The silver paper and leadfoil come off packets of tea and tobacco. Those silver candlesticks look gorgeous, don't they?"

"Well, I should smile!" rejoined the Colonel admiringly. "He's a dandy in his business, that chap, and his business is fixing things. Huse, if theseñoritasin the sister republic only knew what it was like here, how they would come and camp with you! They'd come over the border onburros, and incarawakis, and ambulances, and waggons, and—and pack-trains of them, and—and—and all their families would be along, too.Theyalways come, to be 'brothers,' and 'amigos,' and so forth; and—and they'd stay right with you, and love you. Yes, sir, I suppose there'd be no end to the love that you would have—no end to it at all."

"All right, Colonel, let them come," replied Huse laughingly, as he stood mixingmascaltoddies on the hearth; "let them come. You won't mind if we kill one of your fat steers now and then to feast them with, I suppose?"

"It would make them sick, Huse," said the Colonel, with some solicitude. "Animas beef would be too rich for their blood. Antelope would be better for them—antelope and jack-rabbit, with a few of Uncle Sam's canned tomatoes now and then."

The camp being a fixture, its inhabitants had hadan opportunity of displaying their architectural ingenuity, and the variety of dwellings there was curious, comprising log-huts, semi-subterraneous dug-outs covered in by tents, and every kind of adobe building, in every stage of development, from a mere fire-place extension to a complete house with a mud and brushwood roof.

During my stay here, I rode out one day with Huse to a spot, about nine or ten miles off, where Lieut. Day with a troop of cavalry and a hundred Indian scouts were encamped. And here, perhaps, it will be as well to notice more particularly the Indian war, which occasioned the presence of the troops so frequently referred to.

Several months before the dates concerned in these chapters, a band of Chiricaua Apaches had broken out of the San Carlos reservation, and made good their escape into the Sierra Madre. Joined here by Apaches of other tribes, and by a few renegade Navajos from Arizona, they had divided their forces, and roving, or rather sneaking, through the border States of Mexico and the United States, in small bands, had murdered soldiers, rancheros, and travellers, American or Mexican, with perfect impartiality.Their favourite haunts were in Sonora and New Mexico, but occasionally they made raids into Arizona and Chihuahua. The rugged ranges of hills that intersect the plains in this part of America, afforded them highways and sanctuaries for retreat in all directions. Here also they found whatever game they required for subsistence.

Old Indian fighters, and others who have the means of judging, assert that the Apaches are superior in endurance and physique to any other Indians in the States, whilst in intellectual power, prudence, subtilty, and tactical skill, they are probably unrivalled, the world over, amongst savage races. Although not naturally born to the saddle, like some Indians, they covet the possession of horses, and are expert horse-thieves. Since they require no baggage; since they find a remount depôt in every ranch they pass through, and can, therefore, ride their horses to death without inconvenience; since a hundred miles on foot, through the roughest country, is a trip that even their squaws will accomplish without rest; since they are wise as serpents, prudent as elephants, well armed, and intimately acquainted with every cañon, cave, and water-hole in the country they infest, it isscarcely to be wondered at that the United States troops experience some difficulty in recapturing them. The very organisation of regular troops is a disadvantage to them in such warfare; it is like setting a team of yoked oxen to "round up" wild two-year-old scrub steers.

The Apaches never risked an open conflict. If they attacked a small convoy, or surveying party, a few miners, a couple of cow-boys, or a teamster, it was always with overwhelming numbers, at a place selected with the deepest cunning, whence they themselves, secure of a safe line of retreat, were enabled to fire from admirable points of vantage, without leaving cover. Under these circumstances they had done a vast deal of mischief, their victims amounting to about three hundred, or nearly double the number of men that their whole force of men, women, and children comprised.

They moved so rapidly, and covered such distances, that it was impossible at any time to locate them with certainty. Their presence was only announced by some unexpected massacre. Hotly pursued, they scattered like a band of quail, to reunite at some preconcerted spot. And if, notwithstanding all theiradvantages, the white troops were pressing them dangerously, they vanished for a time into the heart of the Sierra Madre, where soldiers could not follow them.

With the policy of leaving these Indians on a reservation that lies within spring of their own natural and practically inaccessible stronghold, after repeated experience of the results of so doing, we have nothing to do. The border population of Mexico and the States is not contented with it. But it should be remembered that theranchero, whose son or brother has been massacred, and who runs some daily risk himself, is hardly able to judge coolly of such a matter; whereas the Eastern philanthropist, who really directs the above policy, is far enough removed from the seat of danger, and sufficiently disinterested in the prosperity of the district involved in it, to view the question with an impartial eye. This is as it should be, no doubt.

"You will like Day," said Huse, as we splashed through a pretty little stream, and caught sight of the filmy pillars of smoke that curled up amongst the cotton-wood trees, from the camp-fires; "all his men like him; he can do anything with these Indians.He'll fight, too, you bet! and he's as tough as raw-hide. Britton Davis told me that Day did a thing which he wouldn't have believed possible, if it hadn't come under his immediate notice. He was on a hot trail once with his scouts—they had been following it for some days—and it set in to rain. Well, you can't travel in mocassins in wet weather, and Day's boots were away behind with the regular troops. Do you think he quit? Not he. He just pulled off his mocassins, and followed the trail barefooted for three days, like the Indians with him—in the Sierra Madre! Eh? just think of it! all amongst those rocks and thorns! They got the redskins—killed eight of them—but Day was lame for weeks afterwards."

Thus talking we had ridden by the empty picket lines, and little shelter tents, which marked the quarters of the cavalry, passed through the neatly arranged trappings and lines of the pack-train, and now pulled up before the three headquarters tents. A pleasant shout of recognition greeted Huse's summons, and the subject of our conversation appeared.

The last man in the world that you would haveexpected to see, were you accustomed to draw portraits in imagination, and drew in this instance solely influenced by the Lieutenant's record! The hero of a score of Indian fights was slightly built and fair, with pleasant blue eyes, and a voice as gentle as a woman's, with one of those delicate complexions that the sun cannot tan, a singularly winning smile, and an almost caressing gentleness of manner.

It was nearly lunch-time, so we lounged round the tent in the shade, and smoked and chatted with our host, and the other officers of his party, until it was ready. Apache warfare, and the stratagems which these ingenious warriors employ when pushed, furnished an inexhaustible theme of conversation.

Amongst other tricks—new to me, though not so, possibly, to my reader—is one which might be used upon occasion in civilised skirmishing. Hard pressed, and anxious to divert their pursuers' attention to a false scent, the Apaches have been known to detach men to light small dry wood fires on their flanks, and so place cartridges under them, that the latter will explode at intervals in representation of a fusillade. Lunch over, we strolled round the camp. This was situated in a picturesque glen. Rockyhills towered above us, but we were down amidst grassy nooks, screens of willow bush, and groves of sycamore and cotton-wood trees.

"Come and see the way that the men bake in our army," said Day, after we had witnessed the distribution of rations to the scouts, and experienced some amusement from the haggling that ensued on the short measures of flour which "Rowdy Jack," one of their fellow-men, served out;—"come and see the way that the men bake in our army, it will interest you. It is simpler than the means your fellows employ, over the water. There is a little cooking stove, used in our service, which I want to show you, too."

We repaired to the cavalry camp, and found the process of baking in operation. In a small trench, about fifteen inches broad, a foot deep, and seven or eight feet long, half-a-dozen flat-bottomed tin bowls or basins, containing the dough, were placed. These were covered by inverted bowls of a similar material and shape. The trench was then partly filled with wood ashes (from a neighbouring fire), mixed with sand to regulate the heat and prevent the dough burning, a few ashes were scattered on the tops ofthe inverted bowls, and the make-shift oven was complete. A dozen or two of these tins could be packed one inside the other; they weighed little, and occupied but little space, whilst the bread which could be baked by their means was excellent.

The stove was a small, flat-topped cooking stove of sheet-iron, which formed an easy load for one mule. In a country where wood was scarce, it would be invaluable, for with a most trifling consumption of fuel, it cooked, and cooked rapidly, a meal for a whole company. Both these expedients are worth the notice of English officers.À proposof "camp fixings," I may mention here an idea which has often occurred to me for a camp table—always an awkward and unpackable article. Let the top of the table be made on the principle of Tunbridge Wells tea-kettle holders, or of laths of wood riveted on to a canvas back. Cross pieces, turning on a screw, such as serve to hold the back of a drawing-board in its frame, would keep the top flat when unrolled, and when not in use, it might be wrapped round the legs, and would pack with ease.

Quitting the cavalry quarters, we proceeded to those of the scouts. They also were supplied withshelter tents, which they had pitched face to face, in couples, close together, a wood fire smouldering between them, and a brush-wood fence snugly surrounding them. No order seemed to regulate their choice of site. They had located themselves wherever there was a crack or inequality in the broken valley bottom, a bay in the banks of the stream, or a nook formed by the fallen trunks of great trees, and their camp was thus scattered over a considerable area of ground.

For the most part these Apaches were drawn from the White Mountain tribe, between which and the Chiricauas a deadly feud existed. Their physique was magnificent. Square-shouldered, lean, and supple types of feline humanity, six feet in stature were not uncommon amongst them, although a lower standard of height naturally ruled. They were handsome, too, in a Mephistophelean style. One group that I saw is photographed on my memory with peculiar vividness.

The trunk of a giant sycamore had fallen, and, stripped by time of its foliage, even of its bark, and all but its larger branches—reduced, in fact, to a white skeleton—projected above the stream. Under the bank (six or eight feet high at this point), Stove-pipe,the native chief of the scouts, had pitched his tent. We visited him, and whilst we were conversing together a score of his men collected about us. Some seated themselves on drift-wood logs, others on boulders, some lounged with their backs against the fallen sycamore, one leant forward with his arms on the trunk, another, seated amidst the branches, dangled his legs over the pebbly stream, which caught their swaying reflection, and near him, a splendid panther-like brute had stretched himself at full length on the naked bark, and leaning on his elbow, gazed lazily at us. All faced us, and the attitude of each one was perfect in its physical ease and unstudied repose. A striking study of heads, too, was afforded by these bronze-visaged warriors, with their black snaky locks (bound by the red handkerchief, their distinguishing badge), their half-closed, volcanic orbs, and scornful features, lit by chill smiles, and gleams of strange intelligence. Savages are always interesting as links with the past—interesting as dusky shadows that linger to tell us of a phase in the history of man obscured now in the twilight of ages—interesting as belated wayfarers in the race of human development which they will never live to finish.

Stove-pipe's urbanity delighted me; "he was the mildest-mannered man that ever raised a scalp, or cut a throat." In his domestic concerns, however, he was, to say the least of it, peremptory. Returning to the reservation one day, after some Apache war, he learnt that his squaw had presented him with triplets. Being a modest man, in respect of family his requirements might have been more easily gratified. The news disturbed him, and he took action at once, thereupon cracking the three little skulls of his offspring upon the nearest available stone. Then he warned his wife that "he had not intended to marry a dog, and if she did it again, he would treat her pericranium in the same fashion." It was an unusual course to have pursued in such a case, perhaps; but, as the Secretary of one of the foremost of Liberal Associations in London (an extremely pleasant man, and an advanced thinker, enthusiastic, moreover, in the cause of civilisation) once remarked to me, concerning the infantine victims of some Holy-Russian atrocities in Central Asia, "What does it matter?—they would only have been savages after all." One of the beauties of civilisation—of being humane and wise, that is—lies in the fact that it absolves us of allduty towards our neighbour, if he be a savage, and permits us the privilege of "wiping him out" with a clear conscience, in the name of God.

The muffled sound of a wild chant reached us from a point hidden by a bend in the stream, and on walking to the overhanging bank, we found that it issued from a small beehive-shaped tent of blankets on the further side of the water. It was a sweat bath. Some large stones are heated in a fire, and placed on the floor in the centre of the tent, into which ten or a dozen men then crowd. A little water thrown on the stones generates steam, and this from time to time is renewed, whilst the bathers amuse themselves by chanting a chorus. Having perspired sufficiently, they plunge into cold water, and some of those who had completed the process, were lying stark naked in the sun to dry, or being dry, were sleeping.

We continued our cruise round the camp. Here one or two men were seated in a tent full of tanned deer-skins, which they were working up and softening with the hands; there, an industrious warrior was embroidering a mocassin or shirt; elsewhere were men occupied in hammering ornamentsout of silver dollar or half-dollar pieces, or in burning patterns on the beautifully coloured beans, gathered in the Sierra Madre, with which they make bracelets and necklaces. For a little while, we watched a knot of men playing Nazouch, a monotonous and uninteresting game, to which the Apaches are passionately addicted. Finally we joined a ring of spectators that were gathered round some card-players.

It is refreshing, in these times of jaded appetites andblaséindifference, to see real interest displayed in anything. These men were in earnest. Their flashing glances, short, sharp utterances and cries, their vivid gestures, theélanwith which, having secured the call, one or other of them would dash down lead after lead, and the lightning pounce with which an opponent would produce a trump or winning card to check such a one's career, were positively exciting.

The Apaches are inveterate gamblers, and hold cheating to be legitimate in their games, thus eliminating from it the stigma which attaches to it in civilised communities. Cards with them involves a trial of skill indeed, and I am told that they displaya degree of subtilty in such trials that the blackleg fraternity in black cloth would have some difficulty in checkmating. Occasionally they club together and lay siege to amonteor faro bank. Only one of the subscribers to the pool plays at a time, but they succeed one another rapidly at the table until one or other of them has revealed a vein of luck. He is then allowed to play on until his good fortune appears to be wavering, when he is promptly superseded. They contrive thus always to play "the man in luck," and aresaidto achieve considerable success by this means.

The afternoon was wearing away when we quitted the charmed circle; we had a rough ride before us; and bidding adieu to our good-natured cicerone, therefore, once more turned our faces towards the Lang ranch.

Amongst other trips of a similar nature, which we made about this time, was one into the Cojon Bonita, or Beautiful Box, a district adjoining Animas Valley (only lying on the Mexican side of the border), where the Colonel had lately purchased 360,000 acres of land from the Mexican Government. The few cattle that had drifted down there excepted, this tract was as yet unstocked, and was said to contain a great quantity of game. Unfortunately it was noted also as being a favourite haunt of the hostile Apaches, to whom the broken nature of the ground peculiarly recommended itself. An Indian there was as safe as a rat in a rabbit-warren, and a white man as completely at his mercy as though he had been a bound sheep.

As Apaches were known to have been recently inthe neighbourhood, it would have been foolhardy to go down there and camp with less than six or eight men, and these we had not at our disposal. However, Major Tupper simplified matters by saying that he himself wished to make a reconnaissance in that direction, and would come with us and bring an escort of ten men. F. and W., two friends of the Colonel's, accompanied us from the Gray Place, and Huse joined us as we passed the Lang ranch. With the addition of four packers for the inevitable pack-train, therefore, we formed an extensive party. It augured badly for sport, and the augury was verified, for the joint bag (and most of the men went out) was one black-tail killed by F. Tramping and climbing, wading and sliding, I tore two new pair of mocassins to rags, and only saw two head of game—two black-tail in the distance—some wild turkey tracks, a fresh Indian mocassin track (whether of scout or hostile I knew not, but its Indian origin was proved by the in-turned toes, and absence of any sign of instep, or of thrown-up dirt at the toes), and a lately deserted camp-fire still burning. Nevertheless the trip was a delightful picnic, and as such deserves grateful recollection.

A mile or so over the Mexican border-line, the trackwe followed suddenly descended, and we found ourselves in a maze of beautiful glades and valleys, the grassy hills which formed them being of the same height as the level of the plain that we had quitted. As we proceeded, the hills rose rapidly, here and there revealing their rocky framework in gaunt cliffs and naked elbows; live-oaks intermingled with the cotton-woods in the bottoms and towered above them on the hillsides, whilst the richest and most luxuriant grasses spread everywhere. Truly the district deserved its name of Beautiful Box.

The old Spaniards, by the way, displayed great felicity in their nomenclature. They were evidently closely observant, too, for, in the same virile spirit of simplicity and directness which characterises all that is really typical of old Spanish art, they generally seized on the salient features of the place to be christened, and allowed play to the imagination only in so wording the title that, although apt and descriptive, it did not become absolutely commonplace. In travelling through the States, the poverty of invention, patent lack of observation, and vulgarity displayed in the nomenclature is extraordinary,[35]and is instriking contrast with the work of the superseded Spaniards, or with the exquisitely beautiful names that sprang like inspirations from the hearts of those admirable godfathers and godmothers, the Indians, and remain a legacy of unset poetic gems, croppings up of a great lead of poetry buried now for ever beneath an avalanche of the Caucasian race. Nowhere can you find that the untutored savage has bestowed his own name on a mountain or river! Such sublime insolence is far less frequent even in Mexico (colonised though the country was by the proudest and most egotistical race in the world) than in the States. But in the States, with everything grand and beautiful in nature to stimulate the imagination, the refined product of modern culture has found nothing fitter to inscribe upon the newest and fairest page that civilisation has turned than his own unmeaning appellation, nothing more remarkable to call attention to than his own vulgarity, and Jonesvilles, Smithtowns, Robinsonopolises, Brown Cities, and the like, besides similarly denominated mountains and rivers, render the map hideous and the Anglo-Saxon race ridiculous. Curious indeed is the influence of modern culture. Has it not founded the mighty order of Snobs, and createdthe distinctive spirit of modern times—vulgarity—the religion without creed or God, fashioned as it has been since faith and God-manufacture perished beneath the growing blight of egotism?

In the Cojon Bonita we threaded our way along a narrow smuggler's trail, through scenery that grew wilder and wilder every moment. The topaz-tinted grasses of autumn contrasted with gray or purple cliffs, the dark foliage of the live-oak with the pale leaves of the cotton-tree, sycamore, or willow. Some of the clouds of colouring that the latter triad presented were simply exquisite. Every shade of amber, crushed strawberry, and all their next-of-kin, combined to make a chord of marvellous delicacy, soft in its gradations as the clouds of heaven, and as powerfully relieved against the velvet-toned rocks, as they against the azure sky. Through all this chaos of colour and beauty, shattered light and shadow, wound a little stream—lento,piano,dolce,allegro,vivace,forte—gliding now over gold and chocolate bars of shingle, now over purple shelves of rock, now silent and deep, now garrulous and shallow, now unimpeded and smooth, now checked by a great drift-wood trunk from below which trailed long liquid tresses, foamy,rebellious, and white, or undulating, glossy, and dark in hue, whilst everywhere amidst the crystal ripples danced flitting reflections of blue sky and lovely foliage, crossed by the darting phantoms of frightened fish. Thefrou-frouof dried leaves and herbage, the murmur of waters, and the whispering of the afternoon winds as they played hide and seek in the thousand cañons of the Cojon Bonita, filled the air with a dreamy tumult. It was a wild spot—as wild

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