FOUR COLOR PAINTINGS

HOPI INDIAN VILLAGE BUILT ON A 500-FOOT CLIFF ABOVE PAINTED DESERT. REACHED BY MOTOR FROM WINSLOW RAINBOW BRIDGE THIS FAMED RAINBOW ON THE DESERT NEAR UTAH ARIZONA LINE, REACHED BY PACK TRAIN FROM KAYENTA OR RAINBOW LODGE, ARIZONA

FAMED HIGHWAY BETWEEN PHOENIX AND GLOBE-MIAMI DISTRICT, THROUGH MAJESTIC MOUNTAINS AND REGION OF GREAT DAMS

COCHISE THE NOBLE WARRIOR

(Continued from Page 7) knowledge of the affair whatsoever. He expressed a willingness to do what he could to aid in their recovery. History has made it clear that the Chiricahuas were not guilty of this depredation. Brash young Bascom refused to take Cochise at his word and ordered him and his family under arrest.

Instantly the outraged chief reached into his gee-string and, drawing his knife, slashed an opening in the tent through which he made his escape. He was wounded slightly but he made his way up the slope through the rocks and bear-grass and was soon safe in the mountains. His relatives were held captive, one having been pinned to the earth with a bayonet as he tried to get away. Cochise at once rallied his band and coming out to the crest of the canyon above the stage station called out to the three employees (who had always been on friendly terms with the Apaches, and, as yet, knew nothing of Bascom's treatment of Cochise and his companions) to come out for a talk with him. They walked toward him unarmed and in their shirt-sleeves. The Indians made a rush and seized all three of them. Culver and Walsh broke loose, followed by a shower of bullets; but Wallace, who spoke Apache was held and carried away. That night a wagon train encamped two miles west of the station, Cochise made a surprise attack on the party, bound two or three of the men to the wagon-wheels, and then burned wagons, freight, and human victims. It was a Mexican outfit but there were two Americans in the company, and they were captured by the Apaches. They were afterward tortured and killed.

A day later Cochise and his warriors in war paint brought Wallace, bound with a lariat, to the edge of the canyon and again demanded that the Apache prisoners be released. Wallace pleaded with Bascom most earnestly to yield to this request as he said he had already been tortured by the Indians. Sergeant Reuben Bernard, a hardened frontier fighter who later attained the rank of Brigadier General, begged Bascom to make the exchange of prisoners. Bascom ignored Bernard's advice and pleas and ordered him under arrest, later to be tried for insubordination. Infuriated by Bascom's refusal to treat with him, Cochise at last, in full sight of the troops, dragged Wallace to death behind his galloping horse. Within a few days Bascom was reinforced by soldiers from two Arizona posts-Fort Buchanan and Fort Breckenridge. Officers in these commands who were Bascom's superiors decided to hang the three male relatives of Cochise's whom they still held and also three other Apache prisoners who had been captured later. The lieutenant refused to give his consent to this. Nevertheless, on a little eminence that sloped down to the spot where the mutilated bodies of Wallace and the other two Americans were found, on the largest tree of a clump of scrub oaks that grew there, the six Apaches were hanged and left for the vultures to feed on.

When Cochise learned of the fate of his relatives, his fury knew no bounds. He decreed and at once began a war of extermination against the whites. During the next twelve years he slaughtered hundreds of Americans and destroyed hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of property. He held impregnable strongholds far back in the canyons and among the pinnacles of the rugged Dragoon and Chiricahua Mountains, and from these camps and lurking places he would dispatch far and wide small bands of his picked warriors to plunder wagon trains, stampede cattle and horses, and murder isolated settlers. He rarely attacked in the open, seldom risked an encounter with soldiers on the march or of companies of well-armed men His scouts, concealed in some lofty lookout would scan the valleys and mesas for small companies of careless travelers, or unguarded wagon trains of immigrants, and then at some favorable spot ambush them-slay, burn, and loot with little danger to themselves. Or they would creep up to some lonely ranchhouse, kill the men, murder or carry into captivity the women and children, plunder the househould. destroy the crops, and drive the cattle before them into the mountain fastnesses. They were ever on the alert for surveying parties, prospectors, mail stages, and solitary travelers. Pursuit was useless, since they knew every trail, cave, and canyon for a hundred miles around, could travel on foot from fifty to seventy-five miles a day over the roughest country, could communicate by smoke signals over wide reaches of desert, could conceal themselves behind rocks, cactus, and tufts of bear-grass with amazing skill and from such hiding places pick off at will either soldier or settler who was so unwise as to risk himself in their retreat--in vain, because Cochise was incomparable as a commander and a strategist.

Even with guns on their plow-beams and armed companions on guard only the most daring ranchers were able to carry on, and with fresh news each day of slaughtered friends and neighbors few had the heart to hold out. No military expedition, even, was able to cope with Cochise. For more than ten years he kept the armed forces of the United States at bay; and he yielded at last not to military prowess but through the mediation of the only white man he ever trusted and admired, and then only to a special commissioner, General O. O. Howard, who had been sent by Presi dent Grant with plenary power to seek him out and make peace with him. At this point a curious character steps into the drama and becomes the resolving force in this dark tragedy. This was Captain Thomas Jeffords. Jeffords came to Arizona in 1860, being then about twenty-nine years of age. He was an erect, athletic man more than six feet in height. He had rather long red hair and whiskers, and because of this was called Red Whiskers by the Indians. He was superintendent of the mail between Fort Bowie and Tucson and for awhile drove a stage over the Butterfield route. During his service as mail-agent and stage-driver he was wounded with arrows from ambush by Apaches and to his death he carried the scars of these Apache arrows on his person. Twenty two of his mail-carriers were killed in a period of sixteen months in the early sixties. These drivers received $125 a month, but he said he rarely had to settle with them at the month's end.

tary expedition, even, was able to cope with Cochise. For more than ten years he kept the armed forces of the United States at bay; and he yielded at last not to military prowess but through the mediation of the only white man he ever trusted and admired, and then only to a special commissioner, General O. O. Howard, who had been sent by Presi dent Grant with plenary power to seek him out and make peace with him. At this point a curious character steps into the drama and becomes the resolving force in this dark tragedy. This was Captain Thomas Jeffords. Jeffords came to Arizona in 1860, being then about twenty-nine years of age. He was an erect, athletic man more than six feet in height. He had rather long red hair and whiskers, and because of this was called Red Whiskers by the Indians. He was superintendent of the mail between Fort Bowie and Tucson and for awhile drove a stage over the Butterfield route. During his service as mail-agent and stage-driver he was wounded with arrows from ambush by Apaches and to his death he carried the scars of these Apache arrows on his person. Twenty two of his mail-carriers were killed in a period of sixteen months in the early sixties. These drivers received $125 a month, but he said he rarely had to settle with them at the month's end.

Finally, when he realized that it was impossible to cope with Cochise and his band, and that the mail service would have to be abandoned unless the Apaches could be brought to terms, he made the daring resolve to go in person for a talk with Cochise. Knowing that the chief was then encamped in the foothills of the Graham Mountains, thither he rode one day all alone. A friendly Apache went with him far enough to send up a smoke signal to indicate that a solitary white man was riding toward the camp of Cochise on a friendly errand. In those days no white man was ever known to go away alive, if he came within reach of Cochise; so the Indians were amazed as they saw this single horseman approach their bivouac. But Jeffords was no ordinary man, and he had determined to risk everything on this inter view. Riding into the encampment, he dismounted, unbuckled his cartridge belt, and handed it, together with his weapons, to the squaws. He then calmly approached the wickiup where the great warrior was seated and sat down in front of him. For a good while he said nothing; for this was the manner of the Indians. He then told Cochise that, as he trusted him, and believed he was one who practiced straight-speaking, he had come to see if he could not enter into some agreement with him so that he could continue to ride his route with the mails. For a good while Cochise, in his turn, sat silent. It was impossible for Jeffords to tell what the outcome would be; and it was plain that Cochise himself was in a quandary. They talked over the situation at some length, and in the end Jefford's courage and straightforwardness won. He remained in the Apache camp twenty-four hours; and after a thorough understanding had been reached, Cochise restored Jefford's arms to him and sent an escort with him down the mountainside. After that murder and ravage went on as usual; but Jeffords rode in safety. The two brave men met often after that and became fast friends; indeed, by a mystic ceremony they later became blood brothers.

By 1870, civilization in Arizona was at a standstill. President Grant had put into effect his famous "Peace Policy" toward hostile Indians, and it was proving successful among many Indian tribes; but his commissioners had been unable to negotiate with Cochise and the unfalteringly hostile Chiricahuas. Try as they would, they could not even get into communication with Cochise. His scouts were on the lookout for a hundred miles in every direction, and by smoke signals and swift messengers the great chief was kept posted as he lay locked in his favorite strongholds far back in the inaccessible mountains. Finally, the President persuaded the brave and humane Gen. O. O. Howard to go among the Indians of the Southwest to settle a number of vexed problems, and, in particular to seek out Cochise and make terms of peace with him.

For weeks and months Howard was unable to reach Cochise, or get any message to him. At last, in a garrison in New Mexico, he was lucky enough to meet Jeffords. At that time this redoubtable man was serving as guide to a troop of cavalry who were in pursuit of a band of Apaches. Howard gives a dramatic account of his meeting with Jeffords: "In the first tent I entered, a tall, spare man with reddish hair and whiskers of considerable length, rose to meet me. He was pleasant and affable, and I was in the outset prepossessed in his favor. Giving my name, I asked: "Is this Mr. Jeffords?' "'Yes, sir, that is my name.' "'Can you take me to the camp of the Indian Cochise?' "He looked steadily and inquiringly into my eyes and asked: "'Will you go with me there, General, without soldiers?' "'Yes,' I answered, 'if necessary.' "'Then I will take you to him.'" Jeffords advised leisurely action. He was soon able to get two young Apache leaders in New Mexico Chie and Ponce-one a nephew of Cochise and the other the son of a life-long friend. It was late in September when the start was made. The party traveled southwestward, and after several days crossed the border of New Mexico and Arizona. When they were within about a hundred miles of Cochise's stronghold, Chie began to send up smoke signals. A little later they came in contact with some of the chief's scouts, and still later located a party of Apaches doing outpost duty-among them one of Cochise's wives. The scout now told Howard that he must cut down his party if he wished to see Cochise. This he did. As the company now proceeded it consisted of Jeffords, Howard, Captain Sladen, Howard's personal attendant, and the two young Apaches. They rode on about seventy miles farther west, and at the end of the second day were still about twenty miles from Cochise's stronghold in the Dragoon Mountains. They rode during a good part of the night, after resting and letting their animals graze and browse.Early in the morning Chie left the party and made off over the rocks. The rest waited in great uncertainty. Hours went by. The sun sank; and then, finally, two young boys mounted on one horse rode up and told them Chie had sent them to guide the party to his camp. In the heart of the Dragoons they found him in the company of a sub-chief and a group of women and children. All night they waited; but there was no word from Cochise. Next morning, not knowing what to do, Howard and his party were on the point of packing up, just to show that they felt free to come and go, when and where they pleased. But all at once there was the sound of voices in the Canyon. Ponce shouted, "'He is coming!'"

The camp was instantly astir with excitement and preparation. First came a solitary horseman, Juan, the brother of Cochise. In full war paint, fierce-looking and ugly, he came on a gallop from the Canyon. Then came the chief, very imposing-looking and well mounted. With him rode his young wife, his fourteen-year-old son Natchez, and a sister. Cochise dismounted and greeted Jeffords in the most cordial manner. He was introduced to Howard, and grasping his hand, he said in a very friendly voice, "'Buenos, dias, Senor.'"

Seating themselves in formal manner, Cochise and Howard at once began their conference. Cochise asked, in Apache, first of Chie and Ponce, and then of Howard, Jeffords serving as interpreter, what was the object of their visit. Howard replied: "The President sent me to make peace between you and the white people."

"No one wants peace more than I do," said Cochise.

"Then," Howard replied, "as I have full power we can make it."

Cochise entered at some length into the long series of grievances his people had suffered at the hands of the white man, and Howard answered in friendly and conciliatory vein.

"How long will you stay in my camp?" Cochise now asked.

"I must call in my chief warriors. I cannot make peace without their advice. Will you stay until I send out messengers to bring them in?"

"Yes, said Howard, "I have come from Washington to make peace."

A truce was arranged, while the raiders were being brought in and during the conference that was to follow. For ten days or more the white men were well cared for in the Chiricahua camp; and very friendly relations were established. After the leading sub-chiefs came in, Cochise held a long and solemn conference with them on a little plateau near Howard's bivouac. Finally, "a rough, tall, muscular Apache, his long hair hanging in braids down his back, came running toward Howard, spoke gently, and invited all the white men to join the band on the plateau." Then all other voices were silenced by the authoritative voice of Cochise as he spoke these memorable words: "Hereafter, the white man and the Indian are to drink of the same water, eat of the same bread, and be at peace."

As a preliminary to the treaty, Cochise had insisted that Jeffords be appointed as their Indian agent. Jeffords was very reluctant to accept this responsibility, but realizing that it was the only way Cochise could be brought to terms, and earnestly desiring peace between the Chiricahuas and the Americans, he undertook the heavy and dangerous task. This was in 1872. Cochise lived two years longer; and during the remainder of his life, exerted himself to the utmost to keep the peace pact so solemnly entered into. He was always at Jefford's side in time of excitement or dissension among his band; and he and Jeffords remained loyal and devoted friends.

For more than a year before the end, Cochise had been suffering from some baffling malady that was steadily wasting away his strength. He was often in great distress and found it difficult to find food that he could assimilate. Jeffords was with him as he drew near his end. He watched with him and gave him medicine. The evening Cochise died Jeffords had to leave him to attend to urgent duties at the Agency, which was some distance from the Stronghold. The conversation at that time between these two primitive men of different race and color, but brothers in spirit as well as by the mystic interfusion of blood, may well be set aside with dialogues between pagan philosophers. As Jeffords was about to leave, Cochise asked: "Do you think you will see me alive again?"

"No, I do not think I will," Jeffords replied.

"I think I will die about ten o'clock tomorrow morning," said Cochise. "Do you think we will meet each other again?"

Jeffords was nonplussed, but replied, "I do not know. What do you think about it?"

Then Cochise replied: "I do not know; it is not clear to me; but I think we will, somewhere up there."

Then they parted for the last time. Cochise died at ten o'clock the next day, as he had thought he would. Just before the end, he asked his braves to carry him up on the west slope of the Canyon so that he might see the sun rise over the eastern ridge once more. Where he was buried remains a mystery to this day. It was known to no white man but Jef-fords; and though he survived Cochise more than forty years, he never revealed the spot. He told John A. Rockfellow and Dr. Robert H. Forbes that the burial took place on the mesa near the eastern entrance to the Stronghold, and that the Indians rode their horses back and forth over the spot until it was so trampled that it would be impossible to identify the grave. But, at a much earlier period, Jeffords told a diffrent story to Al Williamson, who at that time was a clerk at the supply station in Apache Pass. He said to this youth that the burial was secret and in accordance with the primitive Apache ceremonials; the place of sepulture being a deep fissure at a rough and lonely spot among the rocks and chasms of the Stronghold. No doubt Jeffords' object in both versions of the final event was to cloud the place of burial in such obscurity as to render impossible the exhuming of the bones of a great savage or the desecrating of his pledge of friendship with Cochise.

NAVAJO RUG

herdsmen. They greatly valued the sheep for their wool and for their meat, and the animals were so defenseless and helpless it behooved their owners to settle down and take care of them. The sheep later became their downfall. When it became necessary for the Americans to capture and conquer the Navajos in retribution for their various massacres and treaty-breaking episodes, slaughter of the flocks brought subjection of the Navajos.

In 1799, Juan Jose Cortez, Governor of the Northern Province of New Spainlisted the Navajos as the "most northern of the Apaches" and said they stayed in one locality tending their flocks. "They are manufacturers of serge, blankets and other coarse cloths which more than suffice for the consumption of their own people, and they go to the Province of New Mexico with the surplus, and there exchange their goods for such othersthey have not, or the implements they need."

Fifty years later, when Spain no longer owned the Navajo country, Jonathan Letterman of the Smithsonian Institute reported: "The spinning and weaving is done by the women and by hand. The thread is made entirely by hand and is coarse and uneven. The blanket is woven by a tedious and rude process, after the manner of the Pueblo Indians and is very coarse, thick and heavy with little nap, and cannot bear comparison with American blankets for warmth and comfort. Many of them are woven so closely as to hold water; but this is of little advantage, for when worn during a rain they become heavy with accumulated water. The colors are red, blue, black and yellow The red strands are obtained by unraveling red cloth (bayete), black by using the wool of black sheep, blue from the wild indigo and yellow is said to be by coloring with a particular flower. The colors are woven in bands and diamonds. We have never observed blankets with figures of a complicated pattern. Occasionally a blanket is seen which is quite handsome, and costs at the same time the extravagant price of forty or fifty dollars; these, however, are very scarce and are generally woven for a special purpose."

And that was the status of the Navajo rug when, at long last, the Navajos were driven from their towering mountains, their Painted Desert and their plains and confined at Ft Sumner to think over their sins. A few sheep were taken along, but thousands were slaughtered by the American troops when it became apparent that the wily Navajos were playing a game of now we'll be good and now we won't with the United States. Few blankets were woven by the home-sick miserable exiles while they were away from their own country. But when, after a lapse of four or five years, they were given another chance to be good Indians and permitted to return to Northern Arizona, the government gave to each Navajo returning home four sheep and two goats. These eight thousand Navajos returned to a land, their homes for centuries, denuded of everything they cherished. Their peach trees had been destroyed, their flocks, sometimes numbering hundreds, reduced to four animals, their hogans were destroyed, and they must subsist on rations doled out by the Government until they could again resume their natural mode of existence. The quickest and easiest means of procuring the necessities of life presented a major problem. Solved! Weave blankets as quickly as possible and sell them to the soldiers and newcomers. Trade them at stores which had sprung up with the establishment of military stations. For a time the Navajo rug suffered badly. The traders introduced carpet chain from eastern mills which could be used for warp. Why struggle endlessly carding and spinning and twisting sheep's wool for warp when it was here at hand and the white buyers didn't seem to care if their blankets were half cotton? And why bother gathering plants and digging roots found often in far away mountain canyons, and burning and pulverizing pinon gum and making the dyes where the trader had rich bright colors in a magic powder imprisoned in paper sacks? Why indeed! And the cheap commercial blanket was born. Gone was the pride of producing soft lasting native colorings; gone was the craftsmanship displayed in fine strong twisting and spinning of yarn for the warp. And, all too soon, the trader of that day stood beside the hastily constructed loom and told the weaver what to weave if she wanted to sell her blanket in his store. Charles Amsden, in his superb volume on Navajo Weaving tells the story perfectly: "And as regards the Navajo blanket, the conquest of the Navajo commercialized that article for all times to come. Hitherto it had been woven as a garment for one of the tribe, and tribal standards had been at stake in its every thread; now it was to be made more and more as time passed, as a floor rug for a distant, alien woman, bought by her for a pittance by an unresponsive trader whose sole interest was in making a profitable sale. The conquest of the Navajo made the blanket a rug, made a journeyman weaver of the Navajo artist in wool. Is it any wonder that the blanket of pre-Bosque times is an entirely different thing from the rug of today?"

That paragraph is not complimentary to the old time trader, but happily it does not refer to, nor hold true of, the fine list of frontiersmen who followed the army storekeepers and turned their efforts to "trading" Navajo blankets. Traders were literally that. Their posts were filled with the essentials of Navajo life and gradually they added the odds and ends spelling luxury to the Indians. The Navajos had no money with which to pay for what they needed. Therefore, they brought in sacks of wool, live lambs, wildcat pelts (they never killed coyotes willingly because they, according to Navajo legend, are brothers under the spell of a wicked witch) deerskins and the blankets they wove to barter for white man's goods. The Navajos had been trading their blankets to Apaches and to Utes and Pueblos for dried peaches and for horses and baskets and such for a long time, now they turned to their white conquerers as buyers of their products. The traders began to advertise the Navajo blankets among their eastern friends and in 1887 the Fort Defiance Agent reported that during the year something like twenty-seven hundred blankets ranging in price from one dollar to one hun dred dollars were sold at his agency. Two-thirds of these were traded at the posts for trader's goods. One-fourth of the number were fancy blankets bought by collectors of Indian relics. When one stops to consider that it takes from two to four months to weave a fine blanket, not considering the materials used in, its construction, the price of "from $4 to $100 for such blankets" is not likely to make the weaver fabulously wealthy!

In 1890 the first cash estimate on the sale of Navajo rugs available says that the total output reached $40,000. We are safe in saying that today almost fifty years later, the Navajo blanket output amounts to close to a hundred times that figure.

For the casual tourist buyer, seeking a Navajo rug which appeals to his own individual taste, or one suitable for a certain spot in his eastern home, let's have an intimate view of what goes into the making of such a rug.

It is estimated that each Navajo, regardless of age or sex, owns an average of forty sheep. There are close to fifty thousand Navajos living on sixteen million acres of reservation. It requires at least six acres of that reservation land to support one sheep. Is it any wonder the flocks are kept moving? When winter comes the flocks are driven into the lowlands, to gather a scant living from the sagebrush and other shrubs. Snow furnishes plenty of water then. As spring advances water fails on the lower pastures, even with the water develop-ment going on by the government for the benefit of these flocks, and the sheep are gradually pushed up into the hills among the melting snows. This means a constant moving of the entire family since the flocks are tended by the women and children. The sheep really belong to the women and the only time the men give much help is in the spring when they help protect the baby lambs from cougars and coyotes. No shepherd of old, glorified by David in song, could have been more watchful and tender toward his charges than are the Navajos. The notorious Black Sheep is cock of the walk in a Navajo herd. His raven fleece needs no dyeing.

The flocks are sheared twice each year and until white man's shears were in troduced by the traders the wool was pulled in handfuls from the animal's back. After the fleece is removed it is well shaken to eliminate the sand and spread over a sagebrush while the burrs and other trash are picked out. Then it is washed, formerly, by being lathered with yucca root soapsuds, then dipped into warm water and spread on the hot sands to bleach and dry. Traders tell me now that commercial soap powders are often used for washing.

Old fashioned hand cards very much like curry combs are used by the women to separate the wool into strands and make it into rolls. A wooden distaff spins the rolls into yarn. Wherever you see a woman following her herd you'll see her twisting this spindle and spinning yarn for a rug. The first spinning leaves the yarn too loose and soft, so it isspun two or three times for ordinary rugs and double that many times for the finest and best weaving. When the spinning is finally done to the satisfaction of the artisan, the yarn is washed again and then dyed. Red is the color used most frequently in combination with the natural colors of black, white, gray and brown, which are used as they come from the sheep.

The loom is made by the weaver and consists of two posts planted upright in the ground. If trees happen to be close enough for the purpose they are used. Crossbeams are leashed to them, one at the top the other at the bottom. A warp frame of four lighter sticks bound together at the corners with rawhide is laid flat on the ground, and the warp, also handspun and twisted by the weaver, is wound upon the frame from top to bottom with the threads crossing in the middle. This frame is securely fastened inside the larger frame with the warp drawn tight. Everything is now ready for the weaving to start. Her colored yarns are wound on smooth pieces of wood that will pass in and out amongthe warp threads. The only pattern used is in the mind of the weaver, and it is uncanny how she manages to space her designs and colors without any pictured guide. Her seat is a folded sheepskin on the ground, and sometimes an old Paiute basket holds the wound colors of thread handy. It is not uncommon for a nursing baby to be in the lap of the weaver while she continues her work, and she usually has an eye on her flock grazing nearby. There is much ado about the symbolic meaning of the figure woven into Navajo blankets. Unless a blanket is distinctly a Medicine blanket or a sand painting there is no tribal meaning to the design. If an Indian thinks his white inquisitor wants to have some cock and bull story made up about what thrilling significance a certain design has, well, they are good salesmen, and they'll help all they can to let the buyer deceive himself. Whenever the family goes on a jour ney with the herd, the loom goes along in a roll on the weaver's saddle. A suitable place to set up the loom is found and there through the long day, hour after hour the woman sits weaving. I have watched time and again the impassive face of a weaver and tried to picture the thoughts that must keep pace with the busy fingers. Is she thinking only of the things the completed work will purchase, the coffee and sugar and canned tomatoes and maybe a bottle of colored pop for the little one? Perhaps so, for she and her ever increasing family must eat. Or, perhaps, she has some secret refuge where her thoughts find surcease from the constant wind and sand and bleating sheep, a sort of Navajo heaven. That is the story of the Navajo rug, a story no outsider could ever imagine. Even before the wool is taken from the sheep's back there is a never ending tale of work and worry and exposure. Caring for the sheep is not an idealistic task. But the women choose to look after their own flocks. When the herds are driven to the dipping vats each spring, as required by Uncle Sam, the women go along, and one woman stands at the chute and as the animal comes through, shoves it down in the vile smelling mixture filling the trough. When it comes up another woman grasps its head and drags it out and shoves it into the corral. When all are dipped the women owners drive their chastened charges back to the home grazing land. The Government would provide men for that work but the sheep owners do not trust strangers with their flocks. For the guide of buyers of Navajo rugs there are a few simple rules to follow. If these are observed a good characteristic rug can be obtained at a just price. I would first say, go to a reliable dealer, or, if possible, to a trading post on the reservation. Have in mind theamount you want to spend and the size of rug you need. For a well woven rug, even in width, one that lies flat and the corners don't curl, say about three and a half feet by five feet, the price on the reservation will run around fifteen dollars. This, of course, is for the average weave and design. Looser weaves and coarser yarn can be bought for from eight to twelve dollars. An amateur should never buy garish off colors, such as green or orange or a cherry red. Those are not true authentic Navajo colors but are commercial dyes not well chosen by the weaver or well used in dyeing. A trader will tell you just what kind of dyes are in a rug and if they will run in cleaning. For that reason it is always safe to buy the rugs made of the natural colors. Personally I find more beauty in a Navajo rug woven in black and white and gray than any other sort. If one has the money and artistic ability to appreciate real beauty in Navajo weaving the soft pliable blankets found in the Chin Lee country are real treasures. Several years ago Cozy McSparron brought about the revival of these old time blankets. The colors are identical with the old native dyes made of herbs and flowers and minerals. Many of them are those old dyes, and some of them are commercial dyes perfected after years of research and experimenting by dye companies all over the world. These beautiful blankets are soft and light enough for bed coverings, and the most delicate shades of rose and blue and yellow are perfectly at home in the fine weaving and design incorporated in the blankets. Many inexperienced buyers are afraid of getting "imitation" Navajo rugs. There is little danger of that. The Navajo weaving is so absolutely distinctive in color and texture and design it has never been even remotely reproduced by commercial firms.

THE GRAND FALLS

(Continued from Page 11) Grand Falls. Volumes of dirty water appeared from nowhere and splashed and pounded before us carrying with it the life soil of its entire basin. No wonder the Spanish call it Rio Puerco (dirty river). A narrow trail leads a short distance along the rim and down the steep bank into the canyon. Down this trail the Navajo women drive their flocks when water is scarce elsewhere. One side of the canyon is a black lava wall checked in almost perfect squares, evidently the result of rapid cooling. The other wall is a variagated yellow and red limestone, the color resulting from being cooked by hot lava. The different strata of limestone are plainly visible with the softer breaking off in large chunks leaving the harder protruding shelves. Wind and sand have eaten into this wall until it is a mass of honeycomb. The real height of the falls is not apparent for it gurgles and splashes over many benches and the eye takes in only the last two plunges. Nevertheless, the height is one hundred and eighty-five feet, twenty-five feet higher than Niagara. It is said that deep pot holes have been worn at the foot of the falls and can be seen during the dry season. However, I shall take their word for it for Grand Falls must be nothing short of a Dante's Inferno during the dry season of the year.

THE UNIVERSITY OF ARIZONA

Thirty-one students, nine only of college rank, were enrolled. A faculty of eight administered their schooling in a new building, unfinished and in which several faculty members lived. Classes were taught in rooms adjoining faculty living quarters.

The polished campus of today stands in extreme contrast to the initial build-ing, erected amidst creosote bush and sand far from the dusty pioneer city, Tucson. Forty acres of 1891 have grown to seventy-five, on which stand thirty-five structures, many of them completely new. Landscaped grounds replace the lone hitching rack for ponies, which was erected in front and west of the main building, and a few shrubs and ornamental cannon which were secured within a short time after the university opened.

Oldest of the university's seven col-leges are the colleges of mines and en-gineering, and agriculture. In order to complete the first building, now known as "Old Main," the early board of re-gents established a college of agriculture which allowed them as a land grant in-stitution to receive federal funds for agricultural research. Permission was secured to use some of the first grant to complete the new building, and the college of mines rapidly was graduated Into a university, under which category it opened.

"Old Main," today stands abandoned in its central position on the university campus. No plan for its disposal or repair has been made.

The Arizona university's greatest growth has come since the World War. Germinating slowly, its first twenty years were followed by more rapid expansion once the Arizona territory reached statehood-in 1912. Its most productive stride in physical make-up has been taken over the past several years, in which building construction has exceeded one and one-half million dollars; funds made available by the public works administration. Classroom space has been greatly enlarged, laboratories for the sciences have been modernized, and much equipment and research material has been unpacked from crowded storage to be made available for student use.

The new construction program for the first time gave the Arizona State Museum, depository for Arizona relics, adequate space to display and store its treasures; and to function as was intended by its founders, the first Arizona legislature.

Classroom facilities were enhanced chiefly by construction of a new building which seats 1,500 students. The state museum itself provides a number of new classrooms, as does the new chemistry-physics building. Additional classrooms and offices were fitted in the old science hall which, remodeled, has become the college of liberal arts.

Serving to hold all student stage activities on the campus, and to provide a hall large enough for all the university's lecture and fine arts production, an auditorium seating 2,700 grew from an administrator's dream to fact. A new infirmary has led to a complete modernization of the university health service for students. Two new women's dormitories have been erected. A completely-equipped woman's building gives women's physical education activities modern quarters. Further room was given the college of agriculture by the removal of administrative offices from the agriculture building to a new administration building. Still looking ahead, the university has P. W. A. applications in Washington for additional office and classroom buildings, a student union building and dining hall, and a new men's dormitory.

The university's attraction for the student has varied. Its faculty, special opportunities, athletics, and location might be listed as specific divisons. Climate and location play a large part in the University of Arizona's offerings for student training, graduate and faculty research, and outdoor recreation. It is difficult to choose the faculty or whose department lead in research, but recent outstanding contributions can be pointed out.

Although unpublished as yet, research done in the stratigraph of this section of the southwest by university geologists will completely rewrite the story of the earth's strata in the southwestern portion of the United States as it interests geologists and those of the world who are interested in their findings, it is said.

University nutritionists several years ago perfected research on the cause of mottled enamel on human teeth; they named fluorine in drinking water. Subsequent research has brought to invention apparatus and compounds which remove the fluorine from water.

Longtime planning of land use, the dating of ancient ruins, and other benefits have come from the development of tree-ring chronologies, in studies perfected at the University of Arizona over a period of more than 30 years. The ages of trees, read from their annual rings, have been classified into cycles so that students of tree-ring work can recover bits of wood from ancient ruins and determine their age by identifying the years within which the wood relic grew as a live plant.

Within the past two years, a graduate student of physics developed in the uni-versity's laboratories, with aid from his instructors, an instrument which, placed on the university's observatory telescope, allows observers to read star light mil-lions of miles distant. A practical ex-ample would be that of reading the light of a 200-watt electric light bulb as far away from Tucson, Ariz., as Pittsburgh, Pa.

Natural advantages at the University of Arizona cannot be confined alone tomining, dry-climate agriculture, archae-ology and astronomy. Its department of Spanish flourishes in the midst of Spanish-American influences, the uni-versity being situated less than 70 miles from the United States-Mexican boun-dary line. Within the distance of an overnight trip to Los Angeles and Holly-wood, California, drama production draws motion picture scouts.

Important in widening the service of the Arizona university is its extension division, organized to conduct corres-pondence study courses and resident night classes; and in addition a film loan, and play-loan library for the state. Educational films are distributed to schools, societies, and for private use. Plays of the nation's major publishing houses are deposited with the Univer-sity's division for use of interested groups or individuals.

Arizona has mined one-half of the nation's copper and one-sixth of the world's supply in its years of mineral production, as well as large amounts of gold, silver, and other ores. It is in the heart of the state's mining regions that the state's university keeps its open house to engineering students. Four active curricula comprise mining, electrical, mechanical, and civil engineering.

The Arizona bureau of mines, active in publications on the state's mineral resources and activities, and of service to the miner no matter how small his operations, is under the direction of the dean of the college of mines and en-gineering. The southwest station of the U. S. bureau of mines, which serves a number of western and southwestern states, is situated at the state univer-sity. Graduate students do their work under supervision of the U. S. bureau as well as the college faculty.

From the arid regions of the world, agricultural students and departments of agriculture look to the University of Arizona's research in dry-climate agri-culture which has been carried on since the university was established. During the past few years the university has sent several of its agricultural faculty into federal service because their re-search fitted them for the government work of reclaiming unproductive regions of the nation. Few students of the col-lege of agriculture or its school of home economics find themselves without po-sitions at the close of their undergrad-uate or graduate careers. Its agricul-ture extension service serves the state with a staff of 35.

agricultural students and departments of agriculture look to the University of Arizona's research in dry-climate agri-culture which has been carried on since the university was established. During the past few years the university has sent several of its agricultural faculty into federal service because their re-search fitted them for the government work of reclaiming unproductive regions of the nation. Few students of the col-lege of agriculture or its school of home economics find themselves without po-sitions at the close of their undergrad-uate or graduate careers. Its agricul-ture extension service serves the state with a staff of 35.

No higher rating than recognition by the Association of American Universi-ties can be attained by a college or uni-versity. Arizona's state university has had that recognition for 14 years. Like-wise its college of law has membership with the Association of American Law Schools, is approved by the American Bar association, and can gain no higher ranking. Its faculty stresses thorough training rather than high enrollment.

Although comparatively few in number, the university's college of education graduates with the Doctor's degree have been sent into top positions. The state's high school faculties hold many of the college's graduate students, and their mates have spread to most of the states in the nation. Newest of the university's colleges is the college of fine arts, already graduating students whose work is achieving widespread recognition. The university's graduate college is being strengthened year by year.

Largest enrollment is found in the university's college of liberal arts, progressive throughout, and whose school of business and public administration is one of the few in the nation set up to train business executives.

Arizona football teams keep company with the nation's leading elevens. In 1939 their season will open in Minneapolis against Minnesota; in 1940 against Notre Dame in South Bend, Ind. Southern Methodist university, Michigan State college, Utah university, and other top football clubs have appeared on the Arizona schedule during the past three years. Centenary college, Loyola university of Los Angeles, in addition to Border conference elevens, are met regularly.

Arizona's polo club plays far and wide, and consistently can claim the southwestern and Pacific coast intercollegiate titles. Basketball teams travel to the coast or the mid-west, barnstorming during the Christmas holidays. Midwest coast relays draw track and field teams. The university's baseball club annually is the toast of the southwest, and in the past years has sent a large number of players into the minor and major leagues.

Not outclassed is the university's program of sports for women. They play and compete with Arizona colleges in eleven sports, most of them carried on out-of-doors throughout the year.

Climatic advantages do not benefit sports alone. Dry and mild conditions permit field trips throughout the year in mining, agriculture, geology, archaeology, art, and other outdoor studies. Excellent day-time weather and clear-ness of Arizona nights contribute to long periods of astronomical observation. The mean maximum for the year is 78.8 degrees, and the mean minimum tempera-ture is 50 degrees, in the university's vicinity, Tucson, a city of 60,000 population. Fogs are unknown; and 85 per cent of the year sees perpetual sunshine, average rainfall for the nine months of the academic year being 5.7 inches.

The university stresses preventive medicine in its student health service. which becomes an important adjunct to the health-giving qualities of the Ari zona sunshine.

More than 8,000 alumni are kept in touch with their university by an active alumni association..