be injurious to anybody, but is especially beneficial to children. The assimilative function in the child appropriates mineral water tardily and sometimes absorbs it altogether too slowly for the child’s good. Its absence in the system causes a disease called rickets, in which, from all lack of lime, the bones of the child become soft and yielding. The bones of a rickety child will bend rather than break. It is slow to walk and inclines to become bow-legged.
It is entirely different in old age. As the years multiply the system absorbs an abnormal and ever increasing amount of calcareous matter. The bones become unduly hard and brittle and are easily broken. Bony matter is liable to be deposited in and about the joints, when they become stiff and painful. It also lodges in the various soft tissues of the body, and ossification of the valves of the heart and walls of the arteries sometimes happens. It weakens the blood vessels so that they easily rupture, which causes apoplexy, paralysis and death. Calcareous concretions in the kidneys and bladder, also, come from the same cause, and are called gravel. Such deposits are not only annoying and painful to the patient, but in time may prove fatal if not removed by surgery.
Middle-aged and elderly people should never drink anything but soft water. If a natural supply of soft water cannot be obtained distilled water should be substituted. If neither natural soft water nor distilled water are available, and there is doubt as to the purity of the water that is being used, it should be boiled and then let stand to cool and settle. Boiling not only destroys and renders harmless any organic germs that may be present, but also precipitates and eliminates much of its inorganic salts.
A few drops of a weak solution of nitrate of silver added to a glass of water will quickly determine its quality. If the water that is being tested is free from mineral matter no change is produced, but if it contains mineral it turns the water opaque or milky.
The value of mineral water as a healthful or necessary drink has been greatly exaggerated. While it may do good in some instances, it is not nearly as beneficial as is commonly supposed. Instead of it always doing good the contrary is often true.
If a mineral water is desired there is no necessity of visiting a mineral spring to obtain it, as it can be made artificially at home or at the nearest pharmacy in any quantity or of any quality desired, with the additional advantage of having it contain exactly the ingredients wanted. There are nearly as many mineral waters on the market as there are patent medicines, and both are about equally misrepresented and deceiving. All classes of people would undoubtedly be greatly benefited in health, strength and longevity if more attention was given to the quality of our domestic water supply. Any one who needs a change, other things being equal, should seek a resort that furnishes pure, soft water rather than choose a spring that only boasts of its mineral properties. Not all of the benefit that is derived from a course at watering place is due to the virtues of the water, be it ever so potent. The change of environment, climate, diet, bathing, etc., are each factors that contribute something towards a cure.
Next to using pure water as a beverage it is important to know how to bathe properly, such knowledge being simple and plain enough if only common sense is used. Usually the more simply a bath is administered the better are the results. Some people seem to think that in order to derive any benefit from a bath it is necessary to employ some unusual or complicated process. Nothing is further from the truth. The plain, tepid bath is the best for general use. It thoroughly cleanses the body and produces no unpleasant shock. A hot bath is rarely needed but, if it is used, enough time should be given after it to rest and cool off before going out into the open air in order to avoid taking cold. The good or harm of a bath must be judged by its effects.
A bath is only beneficial when it is followed by a healthy reaction, which is indicated by an agreeable feeling of warmth and comfort, and is injurious if the subject feels cold, weak or depressed. A bath does not affect all people alike; what will do one person good may injure another. It is never wise to prescribe a stereotyped treatment for every patient. The disease, temperament and constitution of each individual must be taken into account and the temperature and frequency of the bath must be determined and regulated by the necessity and idiosyncrasies of each case. The amount of bathing that a strong, full-blooded person could endure would mop out the life of a thin, bloodless weakling.
Locally, these springs have become famous because of the remarkable cures they have effected, and are sought by many sick people who have failed to find relief by other means. Before the white man came the Indians used the water for curing their sick. The water is curative in rheumatism, neuralgia, dyspepsia, blood and skin disorders and kidney complaint. The water cure is all right even if it does not always fulfill every expectation.
Hooker’s hot springs is a pleasant place to visit for people who are not invalids. It is off the beaten path of travel and is an ideal spot for the tired man who needs a rest. It has not yet been overrun by the crowd, but retains all of the natural charm of freshness which the old resorts have lost. Here nature riots in all of her wild beauty and has not yet been perceptibly marred by the despoiling hand of man.
Aside from the luxury of the baths which the place affords the visitor can find a great deal to please him. The climate is healthful and the weather pleasant during most of the year. In the near vicinity much can be found in nature that is interesting. Never-failing mountain streams, deep canons and dark forests wait to be visited and explored, while curiosities in animal and vegetable life abound. Not far off is a place here perfect geodes of chalcedony are found.
Mining and ranching are the leading industries of the country and a visit to some neighboring mine or cattle ranch is not without interest to the novice. But, if he starts out on such a trip he must decide to make a day of it, as the country is sparsely settled and the distances long between camps. If the accommodations where he stops are not always luxurious the welcome is cordial and the entertainment comfortable. The new experience is also delightfully romantic.
CHAPTER X
CANON ECHOES
The Colorado Plateau, in northern Arizona, is the union of the Rocky and Sierra Nevada mountains in their southward trend, and forms the southern rim of the Great Basin. This depression was once a vast inland sea, of which nothing remains but the Salt Lake of Utah, and is drained by the Colorado river. The entire plateau region is remarkable for its grand scenery–abysmal chasms, sculptured buttes and towering cliffs, which are “brightly colored as if painted by artist Gods, not stained and daubed by inharmonious hues but beautiful as flowers and gorgeous as the clouds.” The plateau is an immense woodland of pines known as the Coconino Forest.
The San Francisco mountains, nearly thirteen thousand feet high, stand in the middle of the plateau which is, also, the center of an extensive extinct volcanic field. The whole country is covered with cinders which were thrown from active volcanoes centuries ago. The track of the Santa Fe Pacific railroad, clear across Arizona, is ballasted with cinders instead of gravel that were dug from pits on its own right of way.
Near the southern base of the San Francisco mountains is the town of Flagstaff built in a natural forest of pine trees. It is sometimes called the Skylight City because of its high altitude, rarefied atmosphere and brilliant sky. It is said to have been named by a company of soldiers who camped on the spot while out hunting Indians, when the country was new. It happened to be on the Fourth of July and they celebrated the day by unfurling Old Glory from the top of a pine tree, which was stripped of its branches and converted into a flagstaff. Here is located the Lowell Observatory, which has made many valuable discoveries in astronomy. It is a delightful spot and offers many attractions to the scientist, tourist and health seeker.
One of the many interesting objects of this locality is the Ice Cave situated eight miles southwest of the town. It not only attracts the curious, but its congealed stores are also drawn on by the people who live in the vicinity when the domestic ice supply runs short. The cave is entered from the side of a ravine and its opening is arched by lava rock. How the ice ever got there is a mystery unless it is, as Mr. Volz claims, glacial ice that was covered and preserved by a thick coat of cinders which fell when the San Francisco Peaks were in active eruption. As far as observed the ice never becomes more nor ever gets less, except what is removed by mining.
The region is unusually attractive to the naturalist. It is the best field for the study of entomology that is known. But all nature riots here. Dr. C. Hart Merriam, in his report of a biological survey of the San Francisco mountains and Painted Desert, states that there are seven distinct life zones in a radius of twenty-five miles running the entire gamut from the Arctic to the Tropic.[2] The variety of life which he found and describes cannot be duplicated in the same space anywhere else upon the globe.
[2] Results of a Biological Survey of the San Francisco Mountain Region and Painted Desert of the Little Colorado, Arizona. 1890.
But the greatest natural wonder of this region and, it is claimed by competent judges of the whole world, is the Grand Canon of Arizona, which is seventy-two miles north of Flagstaff. Thurber’s stage line, when it was running, carried passengers through in one day, but after the railroad was built from Williams to Bright Angel the stage was abandoned. However it is an interesting trip and many people make it every summer by private conveyance who go for an outing and can travel leisurely. It is a good natural road and runs nearly the entire distance through an open pine forest.
Two roads leave Flagstaff for the Canon called respectively the summer and winter roads. The former goes west of the San Francisco mountains and intersects with the winter road that runs east of the peaks at Cedar Ranch, which was the midway station of the old stage line. The summer road is the one usually travelled, as the winter road is almost destitute of water.
The road ascends rapidly from an elevation of seven thousand feet at Flagstaff to eleven thousand feet at the summit, and descends more gradually to Cedar Ranch, where the elevation is less than five thousand feet and in distance is about halfway to the Canon. Here cedar and pinon trees take the place of the taller pines. Cedar Ranch is on an arm of the Painted Desert, which stretches away towards the east over a wide level plain to the horizon. From this point the road ascends again on an easy grade until it reaches an elevation of eight thousand feet at the Canon.
During the long drive through the pine woods the appearance of the country gives no hint of a desert, but beautiful scenery greets the eye on every hand. The air is filled with the fragrance of pine and ozone that is as exhilarating as wine. No signs of severe windstorms are seen in broken branches and fallen trees. If an occasional tree is found lying prostrate it was felled either by the woodman’s ax or one of nature’s destructive forces, fire or decay, or both. But the large number of shattered trees which are encountered during the day give evidence that the lightning is frequently very destructive in its work. The bark of the pine trees is of a reddish gray color, which contrasts brightly with the green foliage.
The winter road furnishes even more attractions than the summer road on which line a railroad should be built through to the Canon. Soon after leaving town a side road leads to the cliff dwellings in Walnut Canon. Along the wayside a signboard points the direction to the Bottomless Pit, which is a deep hole in the ground that is only one of many such fissures in the earth found on the Colorado Plateau. Four miles east of Canon Diablo a narrow fissure from a few inches to several feet wide and hundreds of feet deep has been traced in a continuous line over one hundred miles.
Further on a group of cave dwellings can be seen among the rocks upon a distant bill. A turn in the road next brings the Sunset Mountain into view. Its crest glows with the colors of sunset, which unusual effect is produced by colored rocks that are of volcanic origin. Black cinders cover its steep sides and its brow is the rim of a deep crater. Between Sunset Peak and O’Leary Peak is the Black Crater from which flowed at one time thick streams of black lava that hardened into rock and are known as the lava beds. Scores of crater cones and miles of black cinders can be seen from Sunset Mountain, and lava and cinders of this region look as fresh as if an eruption had occurred but yesterday.
A peculiarity of the pine trees which grow in the cinders is that their roots do not go down but spread out upon the surface. Some of the roots are entirely bare while others are half buried in cinders. They are from an inch to a foot thick and from ten to fifty feet long, according to the size of the tree which they support. The cause of the queer root formation is not apparent.
The whole plateau country is scarce of water. The Grand Canon drains the ground dry to an unusual depth. The nearest spring of water to the Canon at Grand View is Cedar Spring, forty miles distant. Until recently all the water used at the canon was either packed upon burros from springs down in the canon or caught in ponds or reservoirs from rains or melted snow. Since the completion of the railroad the water is hauled in on cars constructed for that purpose.
The watershed of the canon slopes away from the rim and instead of the storm water running directly into the river it flows in the opposite direction. Only after a long detour of many miles does it finally reach the river by the Little Colorado or Cataract Creek.
Now that the Grand Canon is made accessible by rail over a branch road of the Santa Fe from Williams on the main line, it is reached in comparative ease and comfort. But to stop at the Bright Angel Hotel and look over the guard rail on the cliff down into the canon gives merely a glimpse of what there is to see. A brief stay of one day is better than not stopping at all, but to get even an inkling of its greatness and grandeur days and weeks must be spent in making trips up and down and into the canon.
After having seen the canon at Bright Angel the next move should be to go to Grand View fourteen miles up the canon. An all day’s stage ride from Flagstaff to the canon was tiresome, but the two hours’ drive through the pine woods from Bright Angel to Grand View is only pleasant recreation.
Seeing the Grand Canon for the first time does not necessarily produce the startling and lachrymose effects that have been described by some emotional writers, but the first sight never disappoints and always leaves a deep and lasting impression.
As immense as is the great chasm it is formed in such harmonious proportions that it does not shock the senses. But as everything about the canon is built on such a grand scale and the eyes not being accustomed to such sights it is impossible to comprehend it–to measure its dimensions correctly or note every detail of form and color at the first glance. As the guide remarked, “God made it so d– big that you can’t lie about it.”
To comprehend it at all requires time to re-educate the senses and make them accustomed to the new order of things. But even a cursory view will always remain in the memory as the event of a lifetime in the experience of the average mortal.
Distance in the canon cannot be measured by the usual standards. There are sheer walls of rocks that are thousands of feet high and as many more feet deep, but where the bottom seems to be is only the beginning of other chasms which lie in the dark shadows and descend into yet deeper depths below. The canon is not a single empty chasm, which is the universal conception of a canon, but consists of a complex system of sub and side canons that is bewildering. Out of its depths rise an infinite number and variety of castellated cliffs and sculptured buttes that represent every conceivable variety of architecture. They have the appearance of a resurrected city of great size and beauty which might have been built by an army of Titans then buried and forgotten.
A trip into the canon down one of the trails makes its magnitude even more impressive than a rim view. The distance across the chasm is also much greater than what it seems to be, which is demonstrated by the blue haze that fills the canon. The nearby buttes are perfectly distinct, but as the distance increases across the great gorge the haze gradually thickens until the opposite wall is almost obscured by the mist.
The myriads of horizontal lines which mark the different strata of rocks have the appearance of a maze of telegraph wires strung through the canon.
A ride leisurely on horseback along the rim trail from Thurber’s old camp to Bissell’s Point, seven miles up the canon, and back is easily made in a day. It presents a panorama of magnificent views all along the rim, but Bissell’s is conceded to be the best view point on the canon. From this point about thirty miles of river can be seen as it winds in and out deep down among the rocks. The Colorado river is a large stream, but as seen here a mile below and several miles out, it dwindles into insignificance and appears no larger than a meadow brook. The river looks placid in the distance, but is a raging, turbulent torrent in which an ordinary boat cannot live and the roar of its wild waters can be distinctly heard as of the rushing of a distant train of cars.
A second day spent in riding down the canon to Grand View Point and back is equally delightful. Looking across a bend in the canon from Grand View Point to Bissell’s Point the distance seems to be scarcely more than a stone’s throw, yet it is fully half the distance of the circuitous route by the rim trail.
There are three trails leading into the canon and down to the river, the Bright Angel, Grand View and Hance trails, which are at intervals of eight and twelve miles apart. They are equally interesting and comparatively safe if the trip is made on the back of a trained pony or burro with a competent guide.
The Hance trail is a loop and is twenty miles long. It is seven miles down to the river, six miles up the stream and seven miles back to the rim. It was built single handed by Captain John Hance, who has lived many years in the canon. The trail is free to pedestrians, but yields the captain a snug income from horse hire and his own services as guide for tourists who go over the trail.
Captain Hance is an entertaining raconteur and he spins many interesting yarns for the amusement, if not the edification, of his guests. The serious manner in which he relates his stories makes it sometimes hard to tell whether be is in jest or earnest. His acknowledged skill in mountaineering, and felicity in romancing has won for him more than a local reputation and the distinguished title of Grand Canon Guide and Prevaricator.
He relates how “once upon a time” he pursued a band of mountain sheep on the rim of the canon. Just as he was about to secure his quarry the sheep suddenly turned a short corner and disappeared behind some rocks. Before he realized his danger he found himself on the brink of a yawning abyss and under such a momentum that he could not turn aside or stop his horse. Together they went over the cliff in an awful leap. He expected to meet instant death on the rocks below and braced himself for the shock. As the fall was greater than usual, being over a mile deep in a perpendicular line, it required several seconds for the descending bodies to traverse the intervening space, which gave him a few moments to think and plan some way of escape. At the critical moment a happy inspiration seized and saved him. On the instant that his horse struck the rock and was dashed to pieces, the captain sprang nimbly from the saddle to his feet unharmed. To prove the truth of his statement he never misses an opportunity to point out to the tourist the spot where his horse fell, and shows the white bones of his defunct steed bleaching in the sun.
At Moran’s Point there is a narrow cleft in the rocks which he calls the Fat Woman’s Misery. It received its name several years ago from a circumstance that happened while he was conducting a party of tourists along the rim trail. To obtain a better view the party essayed to squeeze through the opening, in which attempt all succeeded except one fat women who stuck fast. After vainly trying to extricate her from her uncomfortable position he finally told her that there was but one of two things to do, either remain where she was and starve to death or take one chance in a thousand of being blown out alive by dynamite. After thinking a moment she decided to try the one chance in a thousand” experiment.
A charge of dynamite was procured and the fuse lighted. After the explosion he returned to the spot and found the result satisfactory. The blast had released the woman, who was alive and sitting upon a rock. He approached her cheerfully and said:
“Madam, how do you feel?” She looked up shocked, but evidently very much relieved, and replied “Why, sir, I feel first rate, but the jolt gave me a little toothache.”
He tells another story of how he once took a drink from the Colorado river. The water is never very clear in the muddy stream but at that particular time it was unusually murky. He had nothing with which to dip the water and lay down on the bank to take a drink. Being very thirsty he paid no attention to the quality of the water, but only knew that it tasted wet. The water, however, grew thicker as he drank until it became balled up in his mouth, and stuck fast in his throat and threatened to choke him. He tried to bite it off but failed because his teeth were poor. At last becoming desperate, he pulled his hunting knife from his belt and cut himself loose from his drink.
Different theories have been advanced to account for the origin of the Grand Canon, but it is a question whether it is altogether due to any one cause. Scientists say that it is the work of water erosion, but to the layman it seems impossible. If an ocean of water should flow over rocks during eons of ages it does not seem possible that it could cut such a channel.
Water sometimes does queer things, but it has never been known to reverse nature. By a fundamental law of hydrostatics water always seeks its level and flows in the direction of least resistance. If water ever made the Grand Canon it had to climb a hill and cut its way through the backbone of the Buckskin mountains, which are not a range of peaks but a broad plateau of solid rock. Into this rock the canon is sunk more than a mile deep, from six to eighteen miles wide and over two hundred miles long.
In order to make the theory of water erosion tenable it is assumed that the Colorado river started in its incipiency like any other river. After a time the river bed began to rise and was gradually pushed up more and more by some unknown subterranean force as the water cut deeper and deeper into the rock until the Grand Canon was formed.
Captain Hance has a theory that the canon originated in an underground stream which tunneled until it cut its way through to the surface. As improbable as is this theory it is as plausible as the erosion theory, but both theories appear to be equally absurd.
At some remote period of time the entire southwest was rent and torn by an awful cataclysm which caused numerous fissures and seams to appear all over the country. The force that did the work had its origin in the earth and acted by producing lateral displacement rather than direct upheaval. Whenever that event occurred the fracture which marks the course of the Grand Canon was made and, breaking through the enclosing wall of the Great Basin, set free the waters of an inland sea. What the seismic force began the flood of liberated water helped to finish, and there was born the greatest natural wonder of the known world.
There are canons all over Arizona and the southwest that resemble the Grand Canon, except that they were made on a smaller scale. Many of them are perfectly dry and apparently never contained any running water. They are all so much alike that they were evidently made at the same time and by the same cause. Walnut Canon and Canon Diablo are familiar examples of canon formation.
The rocks in the canons do not stand on end, but lie in horizontal strata and show but little dip anywhere. Indeed, the rocks lie so plumb in many places that they resemble the most perfect masonry.
The rim rock of the Mogollon Mesa is of the same character as the walls of the Grand Canon and is an important part of the canon system. It is almost a perpendicular cliff from one to three thousand feet high which extends from east to west across central Arizona and divides the great northern plateau from the southern valleys. It is one side of an immense vault or canon wall whose mate has been lost or dropped completely out of sight.
In many of the canons where water flows continuously, effects are produced that are exactly the opposite of those ascribed to water erosion. Instead of the running water cutting deeper into the earth it has partly filled the canon with alluvium, thereby demonstrating nature’s universal leveling process. Even the floods of water which pour through them during every rainy season with an almost irresistible force carry in more soil than they wash out and every freshet only adds new soil to the old deposits. If these canons were all originally made by water erosion as is claimed, why does not the water continue to act in the same manner now but, instead, completely reverses itself as above stated? There can be but one of two conclusions, either that nature has changed or that scientists are mistaken.
The Aravaipa in southern Arizona is an interesting canon and is typical of its kind. Its upper half is shallow and bounded by low rolling foothills, but in the middle it suddenly deepens and narrows into a box canon, which has high perpendicular walls of solid rock like the Grand Canon. It is a long, narrow valley sunk deep into the earth and has great fertility and much wild beauty. It measures from a few feet to a mile in width and drains a large scope of rough country. The surface water which filters through from above reappears in numerous springs of clear cold water in the bottom of the canon. In the moist earth and under the shade of forest trees grow a variety of rare flowers, ferns and mosses.
Where the canon begins to box a large spring of pure cold water issues from the sand in the bottom of a wash which is the source of the Aravaipa creek. It flows through many miles of rich alluvial land and empties into the San Predo river. The valley was settled many years ago by men who were attracted to the spot by its rare beauty, fertility of soil and an abundance of wood and water.
The land is moist and covered by a heavy growth of forest trees, which will average over one hundred feet high. The trees are as large and the foliage as dense as in any eastern forest. Being sunk deep in the earth the narrow valley at the bottom of the canon can only be seen from above. When viewed from some favorable point it has the appearance of a long green ribbon stretched loosely over a brown landscape. The sight of it is a pleasant surprise to the weary wayfarer who, after traveling over many miles of dreary desert road, finds himself suddenly ushered into such pleasant scenes.
The canons of Arizona are unrivaled for grandeur, sublimity and beauty, and will attract an ever increasing number of admirers.
CHAPTER XI
THE METEORITE MOUNTAIN
Ten miles southeast of Canon Diablo station on the Santa Fe Pacific Railroad, stands the Meteorite Mountain of Arizona, on a wide, open plain of the Colorado Plateau. It is two hundred feet high and, as seen at a distance, has the appearance of a low, flat mountain. Its top forms the rim of an immense, round, bowl-shaped hole in the ground that has almost perpendicular sides, is one mile wide and over six hundred feet deep. The hole, originally, was evidently very much deeper than it is at the present time, but it has gradually become filled with debris to its present depth. The bottom of the hole has a floor of about forty acres of level ground which merges into a talus.
This formation is sometimes called the Crater, because of its shape, but there is no evidence of volcanic action. Locally it is known as Coon Butte, which is a misnomer; but Meteorite Mountain is a name with a meaning.
It is not known positively just how or when the mountain was formed, but the weight of evidence seems to favor the meteorite theory, which is that at some remote period of time a monster meteorite fell from the sky and buried itself in the earth.
Mr. F. W. Volz, who has lived in the country twenty years and is an intelligent observer of natural phenomena, has made a careful study of the mountain, and it is his opinion that such an event actually occurred and that a falling star made the mountain. When the descending meteorite, with its great weight and terrific momentum, hit the earth something had to happen. It buried itself deep beneath the surface and caused the earth to heave up on all sides. The effect produced is aptly illustrated, on a small scale, by throwing a rock into thick mud.
The impact of the meteorite upon the earth not only caused an upheaval of the surface, but it also crushed and displaced the rocks beneath. As the stellar body penetrated deeper into the earth its force became more concentrated and either compressed the rocks into a denser mass or ground them to powder.
The plain on which the mountain stands is covered by a layer of red sandstone of variable thickness, as it is much worn in places by weather erosion. Below the top covering of red sandstone lie three hundred feet of limestone and beneath the limestone five hundred feet more of white sandstone. This arrangement of the rocks is plainly seen in the walls of Canon Diablo.
The displaced strata of rocks in the hole are tilted and stand outwards and great boulders of red sandstone and limestone lie scattered all about. If the hole had been made by an explosion from below large pieces of rock from each one of the different rock strata would have been thrown out; but, while as just stated, there are plenty of huge blocks of red sandstone and limestone, there are no large pieces of white sandstone. After the superficial layers of rock had been broken up and expelled en masse, the deeper rock of white sandstone, being more confined, could not reach the surface in the shape of boulders, but had first to be broken up and ground to powder before it could escape. Then the white sandstones in the form of fine sand was blown skywards by the collision and afterwards settled down upon the mountain. The mountain is covered with this white sand, which could only have come out of the big hole as there is no other white sand or sandstone found anywhere else upon the entire plain.
In the vicinity of the mountain about ten tons of meteorites have been found, varying in size from the fraction of an ounce to one thousand pounds or more. Most of the meteorites were found by Mr. Volz, who searched diligently every foot of ground for miles around. The smaller pieces were picked up on or near the rim, and they increased in size in proportion as they were distant from the mountain until, on a circle eight miles out, the largest piece was found. Meteorites were found upon all sides of the mountain but they seemed to be thickest on the east side.
The writer first visited the mountain in the summer of 1901 and it was the greatest surprise of his six weeks’ trip sightseeing in northern Arizona where are found many natural wonders. He was fortunate enough to find a three pound meteorite within five minutes after arriving on the rim, which Mr. Volz said was the first specimen found by anyone in over four years.
Professor G. K. Gilbert of the United States Geological Survey visited the mountain several years ago to investigate the phenomenon and, if possible, to determine its origin by scientific test. He gave the results of his researches in a very able and comprehensive address,[3] delivered before the Geological Society of Washington, D.C. The existing conditions did not seem to fit his theories, and he concluded his work without arriving at any definite conclusion.
[3] The Origin of Hypotheses. 1895.
After disposing of several hypotheses as being incompetent to prove the origin of the mountain he decided to try the magnetic test. He assumed that if such a meteorite was buried there the large mass of metallic iron must indicate its presence by magnetic attraction. By means of the latest scientific apparatus he conducted an elaborate magnetic experiment which gave only negative results.
He discussed at length the various hypotheses which might explain the origin of the crater and concluded his notable address as follows:
“Still another contribution to the subject, while it does not increase the number of hypotheses, is nevertheless important in that it tends to diminish the weight of the magnetic evidence and thus to reopen the question which Mr. Baker and I supposed we had settled. Our fellow-member, Mr. Edwin E. Howell, through whose hands much of the meteoric iron had passed, points out that each of the iron masses, great and small, is in itself a complete individual. They have none of the characters that would be found if they had been broken one from another, and yet, as they are all of one type and all reached the earth within a small district, it must be supposed that they were originally connected in some way.
“Reasoning by analogy from the characters of other meteoric bodies, he infers that the irons were all included in a large mass of some different material, either crystalline rock, such as constitutes the class of meteorites called ‘stony,’ or else a compound of iron and sulphur, similar to certain nodules discovered inside the iron masses when sawn in two. Neither of these materials is so enduring as iron, and the fact that they are not now found on the plain does not prove their original absence. Moreover, the plain is strewn in the vicinity of the crater with bits of limonite, a mineral frequently produced by the action of air and water on iron sulphides, and this material is much more abundant than the iron. If it be true that the iron masses were thus imbedded, like plums in an astral pudding, the hypothetic buried star might have great size and yet only small power to attract the magnetic needle. Mr. Howell also proposes a qualification of the test by volumes, suggesting that some of the rocks beneath the buried star might have been condensed by the shock so as to occupy less space.
“These considerations are eminently pertinent to the study of the crater and will find appropriate place in any comprehensive discussion of its origin; but the fact which is peculiarly worthy of note at the present time is their ability to unsettle a conclusion that was beginning to feel itself secure. This illustrates the tentative nature not only of the hypotheses of science, but of what science calls its results.
“The method of hypotheses, and that method is the method of science, founds its explanations of nature wholly on observed facts, and its results are ever subject to the limitations imposed by imperfect observation. However grand, however widely accepted, however useful its conclusions, none is so sure that it cannot be called into question by a newly discovered fact. In the domain of the world’s knowledge there is no infallibility.”
After Prof. Gilbert had finished his experiments, Mr. Volz tried some of his own along the same line. He found upon trial that the meteorites in his possession were non-magnetic, or, practically so. If these, being pieces of the larger meteorite which was buried in the hole, were non-magnetic, all of it must be non-magnetic, which would account for the failure of the needle to act or manifest any magnetic attraction in the greater test.
Mr. Volz also made another interesting discovery in this same connection. All over the meteorite zone are scattered about small pieces of iron which he calls “iron shale.” It is analogous to the true meteorite, but is “burnt” or “dead.” He regards these bits of iron as dead sparks from a celestial forge, which fell from the meteorite as it blazed through the heavens.
In experimenting with the stuff he found that it was not only highly magnetic, but also possessed polarity in a marked degree; and was entirely different from the true meteorite. Here was a curiosity, indeed; a small, insignificant and unattractive stone possessed of strong magnetic polarity, a property of electricity that is as mysterious and incomprehensible as is electricity itself.
Another peculiarity of Canon Diablo meteorite is that it contains diamonds. When the meteorite was first discovered by a Mexican sheep herder he supposed that he had found a large piece of silver, because of its great weight and luster, but he was soon informed of his mistake. Not long afterwards a white prospector who heard of the discovery undertook to use it to his own advantage, by claiming that he had found a mine of pure iron, which he offered for sale. In an attempt to dispose of the property samples of the ore were sent east for investigation. Some of the stone fell into the hands of Dr. Foote, who pronounced it to be meteorite and of celestial origin.
Sir William Crookes in discussing the theory of the meteoric origin of diamonds[4] says “the most striking confirmation of the meteoric theory comes from Arizona. Here, on a broad open plain, over an area about five miles in diameter, were scattered from one to two thousand masses of metallic iron, the fragments varying in weight from half a ton to a fraction of an ounce. There is little doubt that these masses formed part of a meteorite shower, although no record exists as to when the fall took place. Curiously enough, near the center, where most of the meteoritics have been found, is a crater with raised edges three quarters of a mile in diameter and about six hundred feet deep, bearing exactly the appearance which would be produced had a mighty mass of iron or falling star struck the ground, scattering in all directions, and buried itself deep under the surface. Altogether ten tons of this iron have been collected, and specimens of Canyon Diablo Meteorite are in most collectors’ cabinets.
[4] Diamonds. Wm. Crookes, F.R.S. Smithsonian Report. 1897.
“An ardent mineralogist, the late Dr. Foote, in cutting a section of this meteorite, found the tools were injured by something vastly harder than metallic iron, and an emery wheel used in grinding the iron had been ruined. He examined the specimen chemically, and soon after announced to the scientific world that the Canyon Diablo Meteorite contained black and transparent diamonds. This startling discovery was afterwards verified by Professors Friedel and Moissan, who found that the Canyon Diablo Meteorite contained the three varieties of carbon–diamond (transparent and black), graphite and amorphous carbon. Since this revelation the search for diamonds in meteorites has occupied the attention of chemists all over the world.
“Here, then, we have absolute proof of the truth of the meteoric theory. Under atmospheric influences the iron would rapidly oxidize and rust away, coloring the adjacent soil with red oxide of iron. The meteoric diamonds would be unaffected and left on the surface to be found by explorers when oxidation had removed the last proof of their celestial origin. That there are still lumps of iron left in Arizona is merely due to the extreme dryness of the climate and the comparatively short time that the iron has been on our planet. We are here witnesses to the course of an event which may have happened in geologic times anywhere on the earth’s surface.
About a year ago several mineral claims were located in the crater by a company of scientific and moneyed men. The required assessment work was done and a patent for the land obtained from the government. The object of the enterprise is for a double purpose, if possible to solve the mystery of the mountain, and if successful in finding the “hypothetic buried star ” to excavate and appropriate it for its valuable iron.
A shaft has been sunk one hundred and ninety-five feet deep, where a strong flow of water was encountered in a bed of white sand which temporarily stopped the work. A gasoline engine and drill were procured and put in operation and the drill was driven down forty feet further when it stuck fast in white quicksand. It is the intention of the company to continue the work and carry it on to a successful finish.
Nothing of value was found in the hole dug, but some of the workmen in their leisure hours found on the surface two large meteorites weighing one hundred and one hundred and fifty pounds respectively, besides a number of smaller fragments.
The Meteorite Mountain is in a class by itself and is, in a way, as great a curiosity as is the Grand Canon. It is little known and has not received the attention that it deserves. It is, indeed, marvelous and only needs to be seen to be appreciated.
CHAPTER XII
THE CLIFF DWELLERS
In the canons of the Colorado river and its tributaries are found the ruins of an ancient race of cliff dwellers. These ruins are numerous and are scattered over a wide scope of country, which includes Arizona and portions of Utah, Colorado and New Mexico. Many of them are yet in a good state of preservation, but all show the marks of age and decay. They are not less than four hundred years old and are, in all probability, much older. Their preservation is largely due to their sheltered position among the rocks and an exceptionally dry climate.
The houses are invariably built upon high cliffs on shelving rocks in places that are almost inaccessible. In some instances they can only be reached by steps cut into the solid rock, which are so old and worn that they are almost obliterated. Their walls so nearly resemble the stratified rocks upon which they stand, that they are not easily distinguished from their surroundings.
The cliffs are often sloping, sometimes overhanging, but more frequently perpendicular. The weather erosion of many centuries has caused the softer strata of exposed rocks in the cliffs to disintegrate and fall away, which left numberless caverns wherein this ancient and mysterious people chose to build their eyrie homes to live with the eagles. The houses are built of all shapes and sizes and, apparently, were planned to fit the irregular and limited space of their environment. Circular watch towers look down from commanding heights which, from their shape and position, were evidently intended to serve the double purpose of observation and defense.
In the search for evidence of their antiquity it is believed that data has been found which denotes great age. In the construction of some of their houses, notably those in the Mancos Canon, is displayed a technical knowledge of architecture and a mathematical accuracy which savages do not possess; and the fine masonry of dressed stone and superior cement seem to prove that Indians were not the builders. On the contrary, to quote a recent writer, “The evidence goes to show that the work was done by skilled workmen who were white masons and who built for white people in a prehistoric age.” In this connection it is singular, if not significant, that the natives when first discovered believed in a bearded white man whom they deified as the Fair God of whose existence they had obtained knowledge from some source and in whose honor they kept their sacred altar fires burning unquenched.
The relics that have been found in the ruins are principally implements of the stone age, but are of sufficient variety to indicate a succession of races that were both primitive and cultured and as widely separated in time as in knowledge.
The cliff dwellings were not only the abodes of their original builders, but were occupied and deserted successively by the chipped stone implement maker, the polisher of hard stone, the basket maker and the weaver.
Among the relics that have been found in the ruins are some very fine specimens of pottery which are as symmetrical and well finished as if they had been turned on a potter’s wheel, and covered with an opaque enamel of stanniferous glaze composed of lead and tin that originated with the Phoenicians, and is as old as history. Can it be possible that the cliff dwellers are a lost fragment of Egyptian civilization?
The cliff ruins in Arizona are not only found in the canons of the Colorado river, but also in many other places. The finest of them are Montezuma’s Castle on Beaver creek, and the Casa Blanca in Canon de Chelly. Numerous other ruins are found on the Rio Verde, Gila river, Walnut Canon and elsewhere.
The largest and finest group of cliff dwellings are those on the Mesa Verde in Colorado. They are fully described in the great work[5] of Nordenskiold, who spent much time among them. The different houses are named after some peculiarity of appearance or construction, like the Cliff Palace, which contains more than one hundred rooms, Long House, Balcony House, Spruce Tree House, etc.
[5] The Cliff Dwellers of the Mesa Verde, by F. Nordenskiold, Stockholm. 1893.
He obtained a large quantity of relics, which are also fully described, consisting of stone implements, pottery, cotton and feather cloth, osier and palmillo mats, yucca sandals, weaving sticks, bone awls, corn and beans.
Many well-preserved mummies were found buried in graves that were carefully closed and sealed. The bodies were wrapped in a fine cotton cloth of drawn work, which was covered by a coarser cloth resembling burlap, and all inclosed in a wrapping of palmillo matting tied with a cord made of the fiber of cedar bark. The hair is fine and of a brown color, and not coarse and black like the hair of the wild Indians. Mummies have been exhumed that have red or light colored hair such as usually goes with a fair skin. This fact has led some to believe that the cliff dwellers belonged to the white race, but not necessarily so, as this quality of hair also belongs to albinos, who doubtless lived among the cliff dwellers as they do among the Moquis and Zunis at the present day, and explains the peculiarity of hair just mentioned.
These remains may be very modern, as some choose to believe, but, in all probability, they are more ancient than modern. Mummies encased in wood and cloth have been taken from the tombs of Egypt in an almost perfect state of preservation which cannot be less than two thousand years old, and are, perhaps, more than double that age. As there is no positive knowledge as to when the cliff dwellers flourished, one man’s guess on the subject is as good as another’s.
An important discovery was recently made near Mancos, Colorado, where a party of explorers found in some old cliff dwellings graves beneath graves that were entirely different from anything yet discovered. They were egg-shaped, built of stone and plastered smoothly with clay. They contained mummies, cloth, sandals, beads and various other trinkets. There was no pottery, but many well-made baskets, and their owners have been called the basket makers. There was also a difference in the skulls found. The cliff dwellers’ skull is short and flattened behind, while the skulls that were found in these old graves were long, narrow and round on the back.[6]
[6] An Elder Brother of the Cliff Dwellers, by T. M. Prudden, M.D. Harper’s Magazine, June, 1897.
Rev. H. M. Baum, who has traveled all over the southwest and visited every large ruin in the country, considers that Canon de Chelly and its branch, del Muerto, is the most interesting prehistoric locality in the United States. The Navajos, who now live in the canon, have a tradition that the people who occupied the old cliff houses were all destroyed in one day by a wind of fire.[7] The occurrence, evidently, was similar to what happened recently on the island of Martinique, when all the inhabitants of the village of St. Pierre perished in an hour by the eruption of Mont Pelee.
[7] Pueblo and Cliff Dwellers of the Southwest. Records of the Past, December, 1902.
Contemporaneous with the cliff dwellers there seems to have lived a race of people in the adjoining valleys who built cities and tilled the soil. judged by their works they must have been an industrious, intelligent and numerous people. All over the ground are strewn broken pieces of pottery that are painted in bright colors and artistic designs which, after ages of exposure to the weather, look as fresh as if newly made, The relics that have been taken from the ruins are similar to those found in the cliff houses, and consist mostly of stone implements and pottery.
In the Gila valley, near the town of Florence, stands the now famous Casa Grande ruin, which is the best preserved of all these ancient cities. It was a ruin when the Spaniards first discovered it, and is a type of the ancient communal house. Its thick walls are composed of a concrete adobe that is as hard as rock, and its base lines conform to the cardinal points of, the compass. It is an interesting relic of a past age and an extinct race and, if it cannot yield up its secrets to science, it at least appeals to the spirit of romance and mystery.
Irrigating ditches which were fed from reservoirs supplied their fields and houses with water. Portions of these old canals are yet in existence and furnish proof of the diligence and skill of their builders. The ditches were located on levels that could not be improved upon for utilizing the land and water to the best advantage. Modern engineers have not been able to better them and in many places the old levels are used in new ditches at the present time.
Whatever may have been the fate of this ancient people their destruction must be sought in natural causes rather than by human warfare. An adverse fate probably cut off their water supply and laid waste their productive fields. With their crops a failure and all supplies gone what else could the people do but either starve or move, but as to the nature of the exodus history is silent.
Just how ancient these works are might be difficult to prove, but they are certainly not modern. The evidence denotes that they have existed a long time. Where the water in a canal flowed over solid rock the rock has been much worn. Portions of the old ditches are filled with lava and houses lie buried in the vitreous flood. It is certain that the country was inhabited prior to the last lava flow whether that event occurred hundreds or thousands of years ago.
It is claimed that the Pueblo Indians and cliff dwellers are identical and that the latter were driven from their peaceful valley homes by a hostile foe to find temporary shelter among the rocks, but such a conclusion seems to be erroneous in view of certain facts.
The cliff dwellings were not temporary camps, as such a migration would imply, but places of permanent abode. The houses are too numerous and well constructed to be accounted for on any other hypothesis. A people fleeing periodically to the cliffs to escape from an enemy could not have built such houses. Indeed, they are simply marvelous when considered as to location and construction. The time that must necessarily have been consumed in doing the work and the amount of danger and labor involved– labor in preparing and getting the material into place and danger in scaling the dizzy heights over an almost impassible trail, it seems the boldest assumption to assert that the work was done by a fleeing and demoralized mob.
Again, it would be a physical impossibility for a people who were only accustomed to agricultural pursuits to suddenly and completely change their habits of life such as living among the rocks would necessitate. Only by native instinct and daily practice from childhood would it be possible for any people to follow the narrow and difficult paths which were habitually traveled by the cliff dwellers. It requires a clear head and steady nerves to perform the daring feat in safety–to the truth of which statement modern explorers can testify who have made the attempt in recent years at the peril of life and limb while engaged in searching for archaeological treasures.
Judged by the everyday life that is familiar to us it seems incredible that houses should ever have been built or homes established in such hazardous places, or that any people should have ever lived there. But that they did is an established fact as there stand the houses which were built and occupied by human beings in the midst of surroundings that might appall the stoutest heart. Children played and men and women wrought on the brink of frightful precipices in a space so limited and dangerous that a single misstep made it fatal.
It is almost impossible to conceive of any condition in life, or combination of circumstances in the affairs of men, that should drive any people to the rash act of living in the houses of the cliff dwellers. Men will sometimes do from choice what they cannot be made to do by compulsion. It is easier to believe that the cliff dwellers, being free people, chose of their own accord the site of their habitation rather than that from any cause they were compelled to make the choice. Their preference was to live upon the cliffs, as they were fitted by nature for such an environment.
For no other reason, apparently, do the Moquis live upon their rocky and barren mesas away from everything which the civilized white man deems desirable, yet, in seeming contentment. The Supais, likewise, choose to live alone at the bottom of Cataract Canon where they are completely shut in by high cliffs. Their only road out is by a narrow and dangerous trail up the side of the canon, which is little traveled as they seldom leave home and are rarely visited.
To affirm that the cliff dwellers were driven from their strongholds and dispersed by force is pure fiction, nor is there any evidence to support such a theory. That they had enemies no one doubts, but, being in possession of an impregnable position where one man could successfully withstand a thousand, to surrender would have been base cowardice, and weakness was not a characteristic of the cliff dwellers.
The question of their subsistence is likewise a puzzle. They evidently cultivated the soil where it was practicable to do so as fragments of farm products have been found in their dwellings, but in the vicinity of some of the houses there is no tillable land and the inhabitants must have depended upon other means for support. The wild game which was, doubtless, abundant furnished them with meat and edible seeds, fruits and roots from native plants like the pinon pine and mesquite which together with the saguaro and mescal, supplied them with a variety of food sufficient for their subsistence as they do, in a measure, the wild Indian tribes of that region at the present day.
CHAPTER XII
THE MOQUI INDIANS
The Indians of Arizona are, perhaps, the most interesting of any of the American aborigines. They are as unique and picturesque as is the land which they inhabit; and the dead are no less so than the living.
The Pueblo Indians, with which the Moquis are classed, number altogether about ten thousand and are scattered in twenty-six villages over Arizona and New Mexico. They resemble each other in many respects, but do not all speak the same language. They represent several wholly disconnected stems and are classified linguistically by Brinton as belonging to the Uto-Aztecan, Kera, Tehua and Zuni stocks. He believes that the Pueblo civilization is not due to any one unusually gifted lineage, but is altogether a local product, developed in independent tribes by their peculiar environment, which is favorable to agriculture and sedentary pursuits.[8]
[8] The American Race, by D. G. Brinton, 1891.
The houses are constructed of stone and adobe, are several stories high and contain many apartments. None of the existing pueblos are as large as some that are in ruins which, judging by the quantity of debris, must have been huge affairs. Since the advent of the Spaniard the style of building has changed somewhat to conform to modern ideas, so that now some families live in separate one-story houses having doors and windows, instead, as formerly, only in large communal houses that were built and conducted on the communal plan.
Their manners and customs are peculiar to themselves and make an interesting study. Their civilization is entirely original, though modified to some extent by centuries of contact with the whites. They understand the Spanish language, but have not forgotten their mother tongue. They hold tenaciously to their old customs and have not changed materially during the past four hundred years.
During that time the Catholic missionaries endeavored to convert them to Christianity, but with only partial success. While they appeared to acquiesce, by giving formal obedience to the requirements of the new religion, they yet held sacred their old beliefs and in the privacy of the estufa practiced in secret the rites and ceremonies of their ancient faith.
The Spaniards undertook to conquer a free and independent people by teaching them dependence and submission, but signally failed. After a struggle of two hundred and eighty years Spanish civilization withdrew and left the Pueblo civilization victorious.
Under successive Spanish, Mexican and American rule the Pueblo has preserved itself intact which fact stamps the Pueblo people as being eminently valiant, self-reliant and persevering. They are peaceable, industrious and hospitable and are said to be the best governed people in the world. As nearly as can be ascertained they are free from every gross vice and crime and Mr. C. F. Lummis, who knows them well, believes them to be a crimeless people.
The Moquis of Arizona are the most primitive of the Pueblo Indians and are worthy representatives of their race. They are of the Aztecan branch of the Shoshonean family and probably the lineal descendents of the cliff dwellers. Their home is on the Painted Desert in northeastern Arizona where they have lived for many centuries. It is a barren and desolate spot and has been likened to Hades with its fires extinguished. Nevertheless it is an exceedingly interesting region and furnishes many attractions. The landscape is highly picturesque and the phantasmagoric effects of the rarified atmosphere are bewitching.
In the early Spanish days Moqui land was designated as the Province of Tusayan and was shrouded in mystery. The seven Moqui towns were at one time regarded as the seven Cities of Cibola, but later it was decided that Zuni and not Moqui was the true Cibola.
When Coronado, at the head of his intrepid army, marched through the land in the year 1540, he procured native guides to aid him in exploring the country, hoping to find fabulous wealth which failed to materialize. He heard of a race of giants whom he wished to meet, but instead of finding them discovered a river with banks so high that they “seemed to be raised three or four leagues into the air.” What he saw was the Colorado River with its gigantic canon walls and wealth of architectural grandeur and beauty. The bewildering sight naturally astonished him as it does every beholder. Think of a fissure in the earth over a mile deep! But the Grand Canon of Arizona is more that a simple fissure in the earth. It is composed of many canons which form a seemingly endless labyrinth of winding aisles and majestic avenues–fit promenades for the Gods.
The land of the Moquinos is full of surprises and, although they are not all as startling as the Grand Canon, they are sufficiently striking to make Arizona a wonderland that is second to none on the continent.
The Moquis live in seven towns or pueblos which are built upon three rocky mesas that are many miles apart. The mesas are about seven thousand feet above sea level and from six to eight hundred feet higher than the surrounding plain. Upon the first or eastern mesa are located the three towns of Te-wa, Si-chom-ovi and Wal-pi. Tewa is the newest of the three towns and was built by the Tehuan allies who came as refugees from the Rio Grande after the great rebellion of 1680. They were granted permission to build on the spot by agreeing to defend the Gap, where the trail leaves the mesa, against all intruders.
Upon the second or middle mesa are the towns of Mi-shong-novi, Shi-pauli-ovi and Shong-o-pavi; and on the third mesa is 0-rai-bi, which is the largest of the Moqui villages, and equal to the other six in size and population. The entire population of the seven Moqui towns numbers about two thousand souls.
In 1583 Espejo estimated that the Moquis numbered fifty thousand, which, doubtless, was an over estimate, as he has been accused of exaggeration. However, since their discovery their numbers have greatly diminished and steadily continue to decrease, as if it were also to be their fate to become extinct like the ancient cliff dwellers.
The Moqui Pueblos are well protected by natural barriers upon all sides except towards the south. Perched upon their high mesas the people have been safe from every attack of an enemy, but their fields and flocks in the valley below were defenseless. The top of the several mesas can only be reached by ascending steep and difficult trails which are hard to climb but easy to defend. The paths on the mesas have been cut deep into the hard rock, which were worn by the soft tread of moccasined feet during centuries of travel, numbering, perhaps, several times the four hundred years that are known to history.
The houses are built of stone and mortar, and rise in terraces from one to five stories high, back from a street or court to a sheer wall. Some of the remodeled and newly built houses have modern doors and windows. The upper stories are reached from the outside by ladders and stone stairways built into the walls. The rooms are smoothly plastered and whitewashed and the houses are kept tidy and clean, but the streets are dirty and unsanitary.
In these sky cities the Moquis live a retired life that is well suited to their quiet dispositions, love of home life and tireless industry. The men are kind, the women virtuous and the children obedient. Indeed, the children are unusually well behaved. They seldom quarrel or cry, and a spoiled child cannot be found among them. The Moquis love peace, and never fight among themselves. If a dispute occurs it is submitted to a peace council of old men, whose decision is final and obeyed without a murmur.
They are shy and suspicious of strangers, but if addressed by the magic word lolomi, their reserve is instantly gone. It is the open sesame to their hearts and homes, and after that the house contains nothing too good to bestow upon the welcome guest. They are true children of nature, and have not yet become corrupted by the vices of white civilization. The worst thing they do is that the men smoke tobacco.
Their industries are few, but afford sufficient income to provide for their modest needs. They are primarily tillers of the soil, and as agriculturists succeed under circumstances that would wholly baffle and discourage an eastern farmer. Several years ago a man was sent out from Washington to teach the Moquis agriculture, but before a year had passed the teacher had to buy corn from the Indians. They make baskets and pottery, weave cloth and dress skins for their own use and to barter in trade with their neighbors. They like silver and have skilled workmen who make the white metal into beads and buttons and various trinkets for personal adornment. They care nothing for gold, and silver is their only money. Chalchihuitl is their favorite gem and to own a turquoise stone is regarded as an omen of good fortune to the happy possessor.
Just how the Spaniards got the notion that the Moquis loved gold and possessed vast stores of that precious metal is not apparent unless it be, as Bandelier suggests, that it originated in the myth of the El Dorado, or Gilded Man.[9] The story started at Lake Guatanita in Bogota, and traveled north to Quivera, but the wealth that the Spaniards sought they never found. Their journey led them over deserts that gave them but little food and only a meager supply of water, and ended in disaster.
[9] The Gilded Man, by A. F. Bandelier, 1893.
The mesas are all rock and utterly barren, and their supplies are all brought from a distance over difficult trails. The water is carried in ollas by the women from springs at the foot of the mesa; wood is packed on burros from distant forests; and corn, melons and peaches are brought home by the men when they return from their work in the fields. A less active and industrious people, under similar circumstances, would soon starve to death, but the Moquis are self-supporting and have never asked nor received any help from Uncle Sam.
In the early morning the public crier proclaims in stentorian tones from the housetop the program for the day, which sends everyone to his daily task. They are inured to labor and do not count work as a hardship. It is only by incessant toil that they succeed at all in earning a living with the scanty resources at their command, and the only surprise is that they succeed so well. There is scarcely an hour during the day or night that men and women are not either coming or going on some errand to provision the home.
The men travel many miles every day going to and from their work in the fields. If a man owns a burro he sometimes rides, but usually prefers to walk. What the burro does not pack, the man carries on his back. He often sings at his work, just as the white man does in any farming community, and his song sounds good.
The burro is the common carrier and, because of his sterling qualities, is a prime favorite in all of the pueblos. If he has any faults they are all condoned except one, that of theft. If he is caught eating in a corn field he is punished as a thief by having one of his ears cut off; and if the offense is repeated he loses his other ear in the same manner.
The area of tillable land is limited and is found only in small patches, which cause the farms to be widely scattered. The soil is mostly sand which the wind drifts into dunes that sometimes cover and destroy the growing crops. The peach trees are often buried in sand or only their top branches remain visible. There are no running streams of water and rains are infrequent.
Corn is the principal crop and support of the Moquis. If there is a good crop the surplus is stored away and kept to be used in the future should a crop fail. The corn is planted in irregular hills and cultivated with a hoe. It is dropped into deep holes made with a stick and covered up. There is always enough moisture in the sand to sprout the seed which, aided by an occasional shower, causes it to grow and mature a crop. The corn is of a hardy, native variety that needs but little water to make it grow. The grain is small and hard like popcorn and ripens in several colors.
It is carried home from the field by the men, and ground into meal by the women. The sound of the grinding is heard in the street and is usually accompanied by a song that sounds weird but musical. The meal is ground into different grades of fineness and when used for bread is mixed with water to form a thin batter which is spread by the hand upon a hot, flat stone. It is quickly baked and makes a thin wafer that is no thicker than paper. When done it is removed from the stone by the naked hand and is rolled or folded into loaves which makes their prized pici bread. It is said to be only one of fifty different methods which the Moquis have of preparing corn for the table, or about twice the number of styles known to any modern chef.
The Moqui woman is favored above many of her sex who live in foreign lands. As a child she receives much attention and toys galore, as the parents are very fond of their children and devote much time to their amusement. They make dolls of their Katcinas which are given to the children to play with. A Katcina is the emblem of a deity that is represented either in the form of a doll carved out of wood, woven into a plaque or basket, or painted on tiles and pottery. There are between three and four hundred Katcina dolls each one representing a different divinity. When a doll is given to a child it is taught what it means, thus combining instruction with amusement. The method is a perfect system of kindergarten teaching, which the Moquis invented and used centuries before the idea occurred to Froebel.
When the girl is ten years old her education properly begins and she is systematically inducted into the mysteries of housekeeping. At fifteen she has completed her curriculum and can cook, bake, sew, dye, spin and weave and is, indeed, graduated in all the accomplishments of the finished Moqui maiden. She now does up her hair in two large coils or whorls, one on each side of the head, which is meant to resemble a full-blown squash blossom and signifies that the wearer is of marriageable age and in the matrimonial market. It gives her a striking yet not unbecoming appearance, and, if her style of coiffure were adopted by modern fashion it would be something unusually attractive. As represented by Donaldson in the eleventh census report the handsome face of Pootitcie, a maiden of the pueblo of Sichomovi, makes a pretty picture that even her white sisters must admire. After marriage the hair is let down and done up in two hard twists that fall over the shoulders. This form represents a ripe, dried squash blossom and means fruitfulness.
Her dress is not Spanish nor yet altogether Indian, but is simple, comfortable and becoming, which is more than can be said of some civilized costumes. She chooses her own husband, inherits her mother’s name and property and owns the house in which she lives. Instead of the man owning and bossing everything, as he so dearly loves to do in our own civilization, the property and labor of the Moqui husband and wife are equally divided, the former owning and tending the fields and flocks and the latter possessing and governing the house.
The Moquis are famous for their games, dances and festivals, which have been fully described by Dr. J. Walter Fewkes in various reports to the Smithsonian Institution. They have many secret orders, worship the supernatural, and believe in witchcraft. Their great fete day is the Snake Dance, which is held in alternate years at Walpi and Oraibi, at the former place in the odd year and at the latter place in the even year, some time during the month of August. It is purely a religious ceremony, an elaborate supplication for rain, and is designed to propitiate the water god or snake deity.
Preliminary ceremonies are conducted in the secret Kiva several days preceding the public dance. The Kiva is an underground chamber that is cut out of the solid rock, and is entered by a ladder. It has but a single opening on top on a level with the street, which serves as door, window and chimney. The room is only used by the men, and is, in fact, a lodge room, where the members of the several secret orders meet and engage in their solemn ceremonials. It is a sacred place, a holy of holies, which none but members of a lodge may enter, and is carefully guarded.
The snakes used in the dance are all wild, and captured out on the open plain. Four days prior to the dance the snake men, dressed in scanty attire and equipped with their snake-capturing paraphernalia, march out in squads and scour the surrounding country in search of snakes. One day each is spent in searching the ground towards the four points of the compass, in the order of north, west, south and east, returning at the close of each day with their catch to the Kiva, where the snakes are kept and prepared for the dance. The snakes caught are of several varieties, but much the largest number are rattlesnakes. Respect is shown for serpents of every variety and none are ever intentionally harmed, but the rattlesnake is considered the most sacred and is proportionately esteemed. Its forked tongue represents lightning, its rattle thunder and its spots rain-clouds. The number of snakes they find is surprising, as they catch from one to two hundred during the four days’ hunt on ground that might be carefully searched by white men for months without finding a single reptile.
The snake men are very expert in catching and handling serpents, and are seldom bitten. If one is bitten it is nothing serious, as they have a secret medicine which they use that is both prophylactic and curative, and makes them immune to the poison so that no harm ever results from a bite. The medicine is taken internally and also applied locally. Efforts have been made to discover its composition but without success. If a snake is located which shows fight by the act of coiling it is tickled with a snake-whip made of eagle’s feathers, which soon soothes its anger and causes it to uncoil and try to run away. It is then quickly and safely caught up and dropped from the hand into a bag carried for that purpose.
Visitors who attend the dance are under no restrictions, but are free to come and go as they please, either sightseeing or in search of curios. If the visitor has a supply of candy, matches and smoking-tobacco to give away he finds frequent opportunities to bestow his gifts. The children ask for “canty,” the women want “matchi,” and the men are pleased with a “smoke.”
On the morning of the dance both the men and women give their hair an extra washing by using a mixture of water and crushed soap-root. The white fibers of the soap-root get mixed with the hair, which gives it a tinge of iron gray. The children also get a bath which, because of the great scarcity of water, is not of daily occurrence.
To the Moquis the snake dance is a serious and solemn affair, but to the visitors it is apt to be an occasion for fun and frolic. Owing to a misunderstanding of its true meaning, and because of misconduct in the past on similar occasions, notice is posted on the Kiva asking visitors to abstain from loud laughing and talking. In other words it is a polite request made by the rude red man of his polished (?) white brother to please behave himself.
The dance begins late in the afternoon and lasts less than one hour, but while it is in progress the action is intense. The snakes are carried in a bag or jar from the Kiva to the Kisa, built of cotton-wood boughs on one side of the plaza, where the snakes are banded out to the dancers. After much marching and countermarching about the plaza, chanting weird songs and shaking rattles, the column of snake priests, dressed in a fantastic garb of paint, fur and feathers, halts in front of the Kisa and breaks up into groups of three.
The carrier takes a snake from the Kisa puts it in his mouth, and carries it there while dancing. Some of the more ambitious young men will carry two or more of the smaller snakes at the same time. The hugger throws his left arm over the shoulder of the carrier and with his right hand fans the snake with his feather whip. The gatherer follows after and picks up the snakes as they fall to the ground.
After the snakes have all been danced they are thrown into a heap and sprinkled with sacred corn meal by the young women. The scattering of the meal is accompanied by a shower of spittle from the spectators, who are stationed on, convenient roofs and ladders viewing the ceremony. Fleet runners now catch up the snakes in handfuls and dash off in an exciting race over the mesa and down rocky trails to the plains below where the snakes are returned unharmed to their native haunts.
While the men are away disposing of the reptiles the women carry out large ollas, or jars, filled with a black liquid, which is the snake medicine that is used in the final act of purification by washing. When the men return to the mesa they remove their regalias and proceed to drink of the snake medicine which acts as an emetic. With the remainder of the concoction, and assisted by the women, they wash their bodies free from paint. After the men are all washed and puked they re-enter the Kiva, where the long fast is broken by a feast and the formal ceremonies of the snake dance are ended.
The snake dance is annually witnessed by many visitors who gather from different sections of the country and even foreign lands. As there are no hotels to entertain guests every visitor must provide his own outfit for conveyance, eating and sleeping. Even water is scarce. Local springs barely furnish enough water to supply the native population; and when the number of people to be supplied is increased from one to two hundred by the visitors who attend the dance, the water question becomes a serious problem.
On the lower portion of the road which leads up from the spring to the gap at Walpi on the first mesa, the trail is over drifted sand which makes difficult walking. To remedy this defect in the trail, a path has been made of flat stones laid in the sand, which shows that the Moquis are quick to recognize and utilize an advantage that contributes to their convenience and comfort.
The Santa Fe Pacific is the nearest railroad, which runs about one hundred miles south of the Moqui villages. The tourist can secure transportation at reasonable rates of local liverymen either from Holbrook, Winslow, Canon Diablo or Flagstaff. The trip makes an enjoyable outing that is full of interest and instruction from start to finish.
Some years ago the government, through its agents, began to civilize and Christianize these Indians and established a school at Keam’s Canon, nine miles east of the first mesa, for that purpose. When the school was opened the requisition for a specified number of children from each pueblo was not filled until secured by force. As free citizens of the United States, being such by the treaty made with Mexico in 1848 and, indeed, already so under a system of self-government superior to our own and established long before Columbus discovered America, they naturally resented any interference in their affairs but, being in the minority and overpowered, had to submit.
When the object of the school was explained to them, they consented to receive secular instructions but objected to any religious teaching. They asked to have schools opened in the pueblos on the plan of our public schools where the children could attend during the day and return home at night, and their home life be not broken up, but their prayer was denied.
The reservation school was opened for the purpose of instructing the Moqui children in civilization, but the results obtained have not been entirely satisfactory. The methods employed for enforcing discipline have been unnecessarily severe and have given dissatisfaction. As recently as the year 1903 the children of this inoffensive and harmless people were forcibly taken from their homes and put into the schools. The time selected for doing the dastardly deed was during the night in midwinter when the weather was cold and the ground covered with snow. Under the orders of the superintendent the reservation police made the raid without warning or warrant of any kind. While the people slept, the police entered their houses, dragged the little children from their comfortable beds and drove them naked out into the snow and cold, where they were rounded up and herded like cattle.
The indignity and outrage of this and other similar acts have embittered the Moquis until they have lost what little respect they ever had for Christianity and civilization. The policy of the government is to make them do whatever they do not want to do, to break up the family and scatter its members. The treatment has created two factions among the Moquis known as the “hostiles” who are only hostile in opposing oppression and any change in their religious faith and customs; and the “friendlies” who are willing to obey the boss placed over them and comply with his demands.
Religion is the dearest treasure of mankind, and when assailed always finds ready defenders. Possessed by this innate feeling of right and rankling with the injustice of the past, is it surprising that they should spurn any proffered help? They remember what they have suffered in the past and do not care to repeat the experiment. To this day the Moquis hold the mission epoch in contempt and nothing could induce them to accept voluntarily any proposition that savored ought of the old regime. Every vestige of that period has been obliterated from the pueblos that nothing tangible should remain to remind them of their undeserved humiliation.
They are a highly religious people worshiping after their own creed, and are sincere and conscientious in their devotions. Almost everything they do has some religious significance and every day its religious observance. Their religion satisfies them and harms no one, then why not leave them in peace? We believe that we can benefit them, which is doubtless true, but might they not also teach us some useful lessons? It would sometimes be more to our credit if we were less anxious to teach others, and more willing to learn ourselves.
Next to their religion they love their homes most. The rocks upon which they live, are they not dear from associations? Is it not the land of their birth and the home of their fathers during many generations? They cling with stubborn tenacity to their barren mesas and nothing thus far has succeeded in driving them away; neither war, pestilence nor famine. Repeated attempts have been made to induce them to leave, but without success.
Tom Polaki, the principal man of Tewa, was the first man to respond to the call to come down. He left the mesa several years ago, and went to the plain below to live. Having captured the bell wether it was presumed that the balance of the flock would soon follow, but the contrary proved to be true. At the foot of the bluff near a spring on the road that leads up to the gap Tom built a modern house and tried to imitate the white man. But the change did not suit him, and after living in his modern house for a number of years, he finally sold it and returned to his old home on the mesa. A few others at different times have tried the same experiment with no better success. The man would stay for a short time in the house provided for him, but never made it a permanent home for his family.
That the Moquis are changing is best illustrated by reference to one of their marriage customs. It is the custom when a youth contemplates matrimony to make a marriage blanket. He grows the cotton, spins the yarn and weaves the cloth, which requires a year or more of time to finish. Since the children have gone to school it is not deemed necessary for a young man to go to so much trouble and expense as to make a marriage blanket, but instead, he borrows one from a friend in the village, and after the ceremony is over returns it to the owner. Even now it is not easy to find such a blanket, and very soon they will be priceless as no more such garments will be made.
The only reasonable explanation why any people should select a location like that of the Moquis is on the hypothesis of choice. There is much of the animal in human nature that is influenced by instinct, and man, like the brute, often unconsciously selects what is most congenial to his nature. Thus instinct teaches the eagle to nest on the highest crag and the mountain sheep to browse in pastures which only the hardiest hunter dare approach. For no better reason, apparently, do the Moquis occupy their barren mesas; they simply prefer to live there above any other place.
Safety has been urged as a motive for their conduct but it alone is not a sufficient reason for solving the problem. Their position is safe enough from attack but in the event of a siege their safety would only be temporary. With their scant water supply at a distance and unprotected they could not hold out long in a siege, but would soon be compelled either to fight, fly or famish.
Again, if safety was their only reason for staying, they could have left long ago and had nothing to fear, as they have been for many years at peace with their ancient enemy the predatory Navajo. But rather than go they have chosen to remain in their old home where they have always lived, and will continue to live so long as they are left free to choose.
The modern iconoclast in his unreasonable devotion to realism has, perhaps, stripped them of much old time romance, but even with all of that gone, enough of fact remains to make them a remarkable people. Instead of seeking to change them this last bit of harmless aboriginal life should be spared and preserved, if possible, in all of its native purity and simplicity.
CHAPTER XIV
A FINE CLIMATE
The climate of Arizona as described in the local vernacular is “sure fine.” The combination of elements which make the climate is unusual and cannot be duplicated elsewhere upon the American continent. The air is remarkably pure and dry. Siccity, indeed, is its distinguishing feature. That the climate is due to geographical and meteorological conditions cannot be doubted, but the effects are unexplainable by any ordinary rules.
The region involved not only embraces Arizona, but also includes portions of California and Mexico and is commonly known as the Colorado Desert. Yuma, at the junction of the Gila and Colorado rivers, is approximately its geographical center. The general aspect of the country is low and flat and in the Salton sink the dry land dips several hundred feet below the level of the ocean. Only by extreme siccity is such land possible when more water rises in evaporation than falls by precipitation. There are but few such places in the world, the deepest one being the Dead Sea, which is about thirteen hundred feet lower than the ocean.
The Colorado Basin is the dry bed of an ancient sea whose shore line is yet visible in many places upon the sides of the mountains which surround it. Its floor is composed of clay with deposits of sand and salt. Strong winds sometimes sweep over it that shift and pile up the sand in great dunes. The entire region is utterly bare and desolate, yet by the use of water diverted from the Colorado river it is being reclaimed to agriculture.
The rainfall is very scant the average annual precipitation at Yuma being less than three inches. The climate is not dry from any lack of surface water, as it has the Gila and Colorado rivers, the Gulf of California and the broad Pacific Ocean to draw from. But the singular fact remains that the country is extremely dry and that it does not rain as in other lands.
Neither is the rainfall deficient from any lack of evaporation. Upon the contrary the evaporation is excessive and according to the estimate of Major Powell amounts fully to one hundred inches of water per annum. If the vapors arising from this enormous evaporation should all be condensed into clouds and converted into rain it would create a rainy season that would last throughout the year.
The humidity caused by an abundant rainfall in any low, hot country is usually enough to unfit it for human habitation. The combined effect of heat and moisture upon a fertile soil causes an excess of both growing and decaying vegetation that fills the atmosphere with noxious vapors and disease producing germs. The sultry air is so oppressive that it is more than physical endurance can bear. The particles of vapor which float in the atmosphere absorb and hold the heat until it becomes like a steaming hot blanket that is death to unacclimated life. All of this is changed where siccity prevails. The rapid evaporation quickly dispels the vapors and the dry heat desiccates the disease creating germs and makes them innocuous.
The effect of heat upon the body is measured by the difference in the actual and sensible temperatures, as recorded by the dry and wet bulb thermometers. When both stand nearly together as they are apt to do in a humid atmosphere, the heat becomes insufferable. In the dry climate of Arizona such a condition cannot occur. The difference in the two instruments is always great, often as much as forty degrees. For this reason, a temperature of 118 degrees F. at Yuma is less oppressive than 98 degrees F. is in New York. A low relative humidity gives comfort and freedom from sunstroke even when the thermometer registers the shade temperature in three figures.
A dry, warm climate is a stimulant to the cutaneous function. The skin is an important excreting organ that is furnished with a large number of sweat glands which are for the dual purpose of furnishing moisture for cooling the body by evaporation and the elimination of worn out and waste material from the organism. As an organ it is not easily injured by over work, but readily lends its function in an emergency in any effort to relieve other tired or diseased organs of the body. By vicarious action the skin is capable of performing much extra labor without injury to itself and can be harnessed temporarily for the relief of some vital part which has become crippled until its function can be restored.
A diseased kidney depends particularly upon the skin for succor more than any other organ. When the kidneys from any cause fail to act the skin comes to their rescue and throws off impurities which nature intended should go by the renal route. For this reason diabetes and albuminuria, the most stubborn of all kidney diseases, are usually benefited by a dry, warm climate. The benefit derived is due to an increase of the insensible transpiration rather than to profuse perspiration. The air of Arizona is so dry and evaporation so rapid that an increase in perspiration is scarcely noticeable except when it is confined by impervious clothing. The disagreeable feeling of wet clothes which accompanies profuse perspiration in a damp climate is changed to an agreeable sensation of coolness in a dry one.
The atmosphere of Arizona is not only dry but also very electrical, so much so, indeed, that at times it becomes almost painful. Whenever the experiment is tried, sparks can be produced by friction or the handling of metal, hair or wool. It affects animals as well as man, and literally causes “the hair to stand on end.” The writer has on various occasions seen a string of horses standing close together at a watering-trough, drinking, so full of electricity that their manes and tails were spread out and floated in the air, and the long hairs drawn by magnetic attraction from one animal to the other all down the line in a spontaneous effort to complete a circuit. There are times when the free electricity in the air is so abundant that every object becomes charged with the fluid, and it cannot escape fast enough or find “a way out” by any adequate conductor. The effects of such an excess of electricity is decidedly unpleasant on the nerves, and causes annoying irritability and nervousness.
The hot sun sometimes blisters the skin and burns the complexion to a rich, nut-brown color, but the air always feels soft and balmy, and usually blows only in gentle zephyrs. The air has a pungent fragrance which is peculiar to the desert, that is the mingled product of a variety of resinous plants. The weather is uniformly pleasant, and the elements are rarely violently disturbed.
In the older settled sections of our country, whenever there is any sudden or extreme change in the weather of either heat or cold, wet or dry, it is always followed by an increase of sickness and death. The aged and invalid, who are sensitive and weak, suffer mostly, as they feel every change in the weather. There is, perhaps, no place on earth that can boast of a perfect climate, but the country that can show the fewest and mildest extremes approaches nearest to the ideal. The southwest is exceptionally favored in its climatic conditions, and is beneficial to the majority of chronic invalids.
Atmospheric pressure is greatest near the earth’s surface, and exerts a controlling influence over the vital functions. Atmospheric pressure is to the body what the governor is to the steam engine, or the pendulum to the clock. It regulates vital action, insures safety and lessens the wear and tear of machinery. Under its soothing influence the number of respirations per minute are diminished, the heart beats decreased in frequency, and the tired brain and nerves rested. It is often better than medicine, and will sometimes give relief when all other means fail.
Arizona has a diversity of altitudes, and therefore furnishes a variety of climates. The elevations range from about sea level at Yuma to nearly thirteen thousand feet upon the San Francisco mountains. By making suitable changes in altitude to fit the season it is possible to enjoy perpetual spring.
Because Arizona is far south geographically it is only natural to suppose that it is all very hot, which is a mistake. In the low valleys of southern Arizona the summers are hot, but it is a dry heat which is not oppressive, and the winters are delightfully pleasant. In northern Arizona the winters are cold and the summers cool. There is no finer summer climate in the world than is found on the high plateaus and pine-topped mountains of northern Arizona. Prescott, Williams and Flagstaff have a charming summer climate, while at Yuma, Phoenix and Tucson the winter weather is simply perfect.
A mountain residence is not desirable for thin, nervous people or such as are afflicted with any organic disease. A high altitude is too stimulating for this class of patients and tends to increase nervousness and aggravates organic disease. Such persons should seek a coast climate and a low altitude, which is sedative, rather than risk the high and dry interior. Any coast climate is better than the mountains for nervous people, but the Pacific Coast is preferable to any other because of its freedom from electrical storms and every other form of disagreeable meteorological disturbance that tries the nerves. The nervousness that is produced by a high altitude does not, as a rule, develop suddenly, but grows gradually upon the patient. Those of a sensitive nature feel it most and women more than men. After making a change from a low to a high altitude sleep may be sound for a time, but it soon becomes fitful and unrefreshing.
It has been discovered that altitude increases the amount of hemoglobulin and thus enriches the blood and is particularly beneficial to pale, thin people. It also sharpens the appetite and promotes digestion and assimilation.
Persons suffering from rheumatism, neuralgia, advanced pulmonary consumption, organic heart disease and all disorders of the brain and nerves should avoid a high altitude. Patients that are afflicted with any of the above-mentioned diseases are more comfortable in a low altitude and should choose between the coast of California and the low, dry lands of the lower Gila and Colorado rivers, according to the season of the year and the quality of climate desired.
The diseases which are especially benefited by the climate of Arizona are consumption, bronchitis, catarrh and hay fever. Anyone going in search of health who has improved by the change should remain where the improvement took place lest by returning home and being again subjected to the former climatic conditions which caused the disease the improvement be lost and the old disease re-established with increased severity.
Most sick people who are in need of a change live in a humid atmosphere where the winters are extremely cold and the summers uncomfortably hot, and to be benefited by a change must seek a climate in which the opposite conditions prevail. The climate of the southwest furnishes just what such invalids require. The sick who need cold or damp weather, if there be any such, can be accommodated almost anywhere, but those who want a warm, dry climate must go where it can be found. Not every invalid who goes in search of health finds a cure, as many who start on such a journey are already past help when they leave home. When a case is hopeless the patient should not undertake such a trip, but remain quietly at home and die in peace among friends.
As already intimated the climate of the Colorado basin is ideal in winter, but becomes very hot in summer. Its low altitude, rainless days, cloudless skies and balmy air form a combination that is unsurpassed and is enjoyed by all either sick or well. The heat of summer does not create sickness, but becomes monotonous and tiresome from its steady and long continuance. Many residents of the Territory who tire of the heat and can afford the trip take a vacation during the summer months and either go north to the Grand Canon and the mountains or to the Pacific Coast. Every summer witnesses a hegira of sun baked people fleeing from the hot desert to the mountains or ocean shore in search of coolness and comfort.
Life in the tropics, perhaps, inclines to indolence and languor, particularly if the atmosphere is humid, but in a dry climate like that of Arizona the heat, although sometimes great, is never oppressive or debilitating. It has its lazy people like any other country and for the same reason that there are always some who were born tired and never outgrow the tired feeling, but Arizona climate is more bracing than enervating.
The adobe house of the Mexican is a peculiar institution of the southwest. It may be interesting on account of its past history, but it is certainly not pretty. It is nothing more than a box of dried mud with its roof, walls and floor all made of dirt. It is never free from a disagreeable earthy smell which, if mingled with the added odors of stale smoke and filth, as is often the case, makes the air simply vile. The house can never be kept tidy because of the dirt which falls from the adobe, unless the walls and ceilings are plastered and whitewashed, which is sometimes done in the better class of houses. If the house is well built it is comfortable enough in pleasant weather, but as often as it rains the dirt roof springs a leak and splashes water and mud over everything. If by chance the house stands on low ground and is surrounded by water, as sometimes happens, after a heavy rain the walls become soaked and dissolved into mud when the house collapses. The adobe house may have been suited to the wants of a primitive people, but in the present age of improvement, it is scarcely worth saving except it be as a relic of a vanishing race.
In order to escape in a measure the discomforts of the midday heat the natives either seek the shade in the open air where the breeze blows, or, what is more common, close up tight the adobe house in the morning and remain indoors until the intense heat from the scorching sun penetrates the thick walls, which causes the inmates to move out. In the cool of the evening they visit and transact business and when the hour comes for retiring go to bed on cots made up out of doors where they sleep until morning, while the house is left open to cool off during the night. This process is repeated every day during the hot summer months and is endured without complaint.
The natives, also, take advantage of the dry air to operate a novel method of refrigeration. The cloth covered army canteen soaked in water and the handy water jug of the eastern harvest field wrapped in a wet blanket are familiar examples of an ineffectual attempt at refrigeration by evaporation. But natural refrigeration find its best illustration in the arid regions of the southwest by the use of an olla, which is a vessel made of porous pottery, a stout canvas bag or a closely woven Indian basket. A suitable vessel is selected, filled with water and suspended somewhere in midair in the shade. If it is hung in a current of air it is all the better, as any movement of the atmosphere facilitates evaporation. A slow seepage of water filters through the open pores of the vessel which immediately evaporates in the dry air and lowers the temperature. The water in the olla soon becomes cold and if properly protected will remain cool during the entire day.
The dry air also acts as a valuable preservative. During the winter, when the weather is cool but not freezing, if fresh meat is hung out in the open air, it will keep sweet a long time. A dry crust soon forms upon its surface which hermetically seals the meat from the air and keeps it perfectly sweet. In the summer it is necessary to dry the meat more quickly to keep it from spoiling. It is then made into “jerky” by cutting it into long, thin strips and hanging them up in the sun to dry. After it is thoroughly dried, it is tied up in bags and used as needed, either by eating it dry from the pocket when out on a tramp, or, if in camp, serving it in a hot stew.
Even the carcass of a dead animal that is left exposed upon the ground to decompose does not moulder away by the usual process of decay, but what is left of the body after the hungry buzzards and coyotes have finished their feast, dries up into a mummy that lasts for years.
Climate everywhere unquestionably influences life in its evolution, but it is not always easy to determine all of its effects in detail. In Arizona, which is but a comparatively small corner of our country, live several races of men that are as different from each other as nature could make them, yet all live in the same climate.
The Pueblo Indian is in a manner civilized, peaceable and industrious. He is brave in self-defense, but never seeks war nor bloodshed. Quite different is his near neighbor, the bloodthirsty Apache, who seems to delight only in robbing and killing people. Cunning and revenge are pronounced traits of his character and the Government has found him difficult to conquer or control. The Mexican leads a shiftless, thriftless life and seems satisfied merely to exist. He has, unfortunately, inherited more of the baser than the better qualities of his ancestors, and, to all appearance, is destined to further degenerate. The American is the last comer and has already pushed civilization and commerce into the remotest corners and, as usual, dominates the land.
As diverse as are these several races in many respects, each one of them furnishes splendid specimens of physical manhood. The Indian has always been noted for his fine physique, and is large bodied, well muscled and full chested. One advantage which the southwest has over other countries is that the climate is mild and favorable to an outdoor life, which is conducive to health and physical development.
No single race of men flourish equally well everywhere, but each one is affected by its own surroundings; and, what is true of a race, is also true of an individual. The pioneer in any country is always an interesting character, but he differs in peculiarities according to his environment of mountain, plain or forest. Occupation also exerts an influence and in time develops distinct types like the trapper, miner, soldier and cowboy, that only the graphic pencil of a Remington can accurately portray. The eccentricities of character which are sometimes met in men who dwell on the frontier are not always due alone to disposition, but are largely the product of the wild life which they live, that inclines them to be restless, reckless and even desperate.
There is no better field for observing and studying the effects of environment upon human life than is furnished by the and region of the southwest.