Roundup in Apacheland

An early morning sun coming up over the Nan Tan mountains in Graham county finds the members of the Slaughter Mt. Cattle Association on the San Carlos reservation surveying a range to be worked during the day Cochise is gone and Geronimo and Vittorio chieftains have gone to their happier or unhappier hunting grounds but they still live in Natchez and Chato and Eskiminzin and Loco and Juh-all the Apache renegades and the pages of Arizona's history where they and "Come and get it" is the welcome cry at camp. Fine steaks three times a day, beans, fruit, biscuits, potatoes and eggs (for breakfast) form a substantial menu.

their like for four centuries stopped colonization of the west. Today scattered over a million acres of reservation in central-eastern Arizona are the San Carlos Apaches, flourishing cattlemen, engaged in peaceful and profitable pursuits. But what are they like, these San Carlos cowpunchers? Let's go along on a roundup in Apacheland and see for ourselves.

Reservation ranges were managed for years by American cattlemen, who ran their cattle on the San Carlos reservation. In 1923 all leases terminated and today the Apaches run their own cattle over their own ranges.

The reservation consists of 15 ranges, and over these 13 associations of Indian cattlemen carry on the cattle business. Membership in the associations come through the clans or family connections. Each association is a complete unit in itself, with elected officers, and a foreman to manage the roundups. Over all associations, however, is the tribal council, an elective group of seven members, one of whom is appointed chairman. This council has charge of the tribal funds, to which each Indian cattleman pays $5 for every head of cattle sold. In 1923 leases netted the reservation $80,000, Last year the Apache cattlemen themselves paid $400,000 to the fund. The tribal fund maintains fences for each association, pays for the roundup. Mavericks revert to the tribal council and are branded "EE." Monies derived from the sale of these mavericks also go to the tribal fund.

After the range has been surveyed for the day's work, cowboys begin the work gathering the herd. Below are cattle on the Ash Creek range, the largest on the San Carlos reservation.

Each Indian cattleman has his own brand. One Indian at San Carlos with a sense of humor adopted "5c" as his brand. Another uses "COW." An Indian youth gaining his maturity and usually married, who shows himself serious and conscientious is allowed 20 head of cows to begin his own herd. He is charged $300 for this stock and pays the council in four or five years. The increase of his herd and his success as a cattleman depends on his own industry and ability to work. Some of the Indians have acquired through the years large herds and have become quite prosperous. Our roundup in Apacheland is with the Slaughter Mt. Cattle Association, of which our host, Hoddy Stevens, is secretary-treasurer. The range of the Association is located in Graham county, 60 miles east of San Carlos, the reservation agency. The range stretches between the Nantan Rim and the Stevens Range, is good cattle range with a good supply of water. Business was good this year for the Slaughter Mt. Cattle Association. The thousand steers sold averaged $37.50 a head, which was a good price. These steers were contracted for before the roundup began, and after the roundup they were shipped by the buyer to Roswell, N. M., for fattening before being sent to market. Quite a business this cattle business!

The herd gathered, then begins the branding of calves and the cutting out of steers and canners for the market. The foreman and president of the Slaughter Mt. Cattle Association does this work. The foreman, George Stevens, left, is as fine a cattleman as you will find on any reservation. His grandfather was a soldier in the Union Army in the Civil War. His grandmother was related to the great Cochise.

On our way to the roundup, passing over Ashflats, Hoddy Stevens said: "This is Arsenic Tubs. Here May 2, 1882, Vittorio and his band hid in ambush in the bear grass and killed nine U. S. soldiers. My father was herding sheep in the hills north of here when Vittorio and his band came."

When we reached Slaughter Camp Hoddy shouted to the cooks preparing the evening meal: "Forty years a cook!" The cooks shouted back: "Forty years a cook!" This, we learned, was one of the current quips of the roundup. It seems that when you go out to hire Branding is hard work and no fun. Each member of the association has his own brand, and each calf is also branded with the brand of the Department of the Interior, "ID." The cowboys alternate on the various chores of the roundup each day.

a cook or a cowboy or a carpenter on the reservation to your inquiry whether your man knows his business the conclusive response will be: "Forty years a cook! or "Forty years a cowboy!" or whatever it happens to be. Sometimes the response is: "Thirty-nine years a cowboy! One year bootlegger!"

And therein was one of the charming things about the roundup! The extreme good humor and wit displayed on every possible occasion by the Indians! You had to think fast to keep up with the sparkling conversation and wit blazing around you. And everybody, it seemed, was "Johnnie!"

The favorite radio program for the Indians is Fibber McGee. When Fibber tells one of his yarns, the old timer responds: "That's purty good, Johnnie! But not the way I 'heered' it." That quip was hurled about the roundup with rare abandon. During branding, George Stevens, the roundup boss, in cutting out the calves missed a couple of times with his lasso. From all sides came the taunt: "Purty good Johnnie!" "Purty good Johnnie!" "But that's not the way I 'heered it!" And the Boss smiled in face of the good-natured panning!

The work on the roundup is hard; but most of the Indians own their own cattle; so it is almost as if they were working for themselves. Members of the Association who do not participate in the roundup must hire help to replace them. An Indian cowboy will make $2.50 a day and his grub, but he must furnish his own horses.

To the San Carlos Apache his horse is his pride and joy; and on the roundup you are struck by the care and treatment the Indians give not only their horses but the cattle.

Joe Hinton, "forty years a cowboy," keeps check on the calves branded. Joe looks like a cowman, acts like a cowman, talks like a cowman, and is a fine hand.

The Association requires fine treatment of animals. This rule is enforced. A smart cowman knows that there is no profit in injured cattle.

And a smart cowman knows that hard-working cowboys in a roundup must have good food. Fresh, thick steaks three times a day, potatoes, beans, biscuits, jam, canned fruit and gallons of coffee make up a substantial fare. Add this to fresh eggs and you can envy them their breakfasts.

At night, as is in all the cow camps in America there are yarns and stories and cow-talk around the campfire, and often there is gambling. The Indians like to gamble. They played Mexican games with Mexican cards! On a special occasion they divided in groups and played what they call "night ball,"

a game consisting of hidden rocks under small mounds of sand -and they bet their shirts.

The Apache Indian boy as a rule has one main ambitionto be a good cowboy and be able to ride fast and hard. The youngest member of the roundup was Martin T. Logan, age seven. He was named "Model-T" and for the remainder of his life he'll be "Model-T."

"Model-T" would be hoisted aboard a horse at daybreak and ride beside his father all day long. "Model-T" is pretty fine people. He'll be a fine cowboy some day, too.

The roundup was a lot of fun, and the Indians were as friendly and agreeable as anybody could be. There was a lot of gaiety and a lot of hard work in that roundup but the visit to the roundup had to be short, because there was such a thing as a magazine to get out.

The only disagreeable thing about the whole roundup was leaving for it never is fun to leave good and gay friends. As we left the farewells were hurled after us: "Purty good Johnnie!" "Forty years a cowboy!" and then one of them shouted: "Forty years an editor!"

There was only one logical reply. We shouted back: "Thirty-nine years an editor! One year bootlegger!".. R. C.

The day's work is nearly over. Steers and canners sold are driven to the corrals to await the drive to the railroad. The Apaches got top prices for their beef this year, averaging $37.00 a head. Over 1300 head were sold by the Association before the roundup began.

Indian boys want to be good cowboys, and they start early. Martin T. Logan, better known as "Model-T" is seven years old. He rode all day in the roundup, followed his father like a busy shadow. Some day Model-T will have his own cattle, be a cowman like his father.