Arizona Sketches
by
Joseph A. Munk
Part 2 out of 3
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.
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