Yours Sincerely

Bear In The Mountains

Trailing hounds make music for the bear hunter. When on a "hot" trail their voices blend in an organ-like chorus. This is hound harmony and when the dogs are trailing bear it is at its best.

Here are bears in Arizona's mountains! Black bears, brown bears and an occasional King of the Forest the grizzly. Each year, when fall comes and the frost turns the leaves of the forest bright crimsons, glowing yellows, and rich browns, devotees of the greatest of Arizona's outdoor sports go into the uplands for bear hunting. Consider Giles Goswick, ace North American mountain lion hunter of the U. S. Biolog ical Survey, who hunts for his living if he and other predatory hunters "by trade" take their vacation in the fall so that they can go after bear (and they do) it must be the most exciting type of hunting! In late summer these men who look forward to a busman's holiday begin to look for signs which show where the bears will run. Acorn crops are looked for because where these nuts are thickest is where the bears will be, fattening themselves for the winter's hibernation. The season opens October 16th to run concurrently with the open season for deer and turkey. It is then that the deep canyon's, the ledges, and high rims echo with music of a running pack of hounds. For bears are hunted with dogs, trained hounds, that follow the spoor of the bear until he is bayed. Bear hunting calls for the best in dogs and men. Hounds have to be trained to a point of physical perfection that will allow them to run for hours or even a full day. The trail a bear leaves will go up and over steep brush-covered mountains, and down into deep canyons. And the men that follow hounds, either on foot or horseback have to be able to "take it." For this hunting goes at a punishing pace; bears are fast and never run in smooth country. The big game animal is hunted in Arizona's roughest mountain country: the Mogollon Rim, on the high plateau of Oak Creek Canyon, the steep sandstone and limestone cliffs of the West Fork of Oak Creek, deep, wild Sycamore Canyon which heads south of Bill Williams mountain, all through the White Mountains in the eastern part of the state, in fact, in all the rough timbered country north of the Gila river. South of the Gila the state is closeal to bear hunting. Should you want to go bear hunting this fall, the writer assures you there is only one way to go that is with a qualified bear hunter who has a pack of trained hounds. By writing to the chamber of commerce of any northern Arizona city, the Arizona Game and Fish Commission, or any national outdoor hunting and fishing magazine, contact may be established with some qualified guide and bear hunter. Horses, camping facilities, that indispensable knowledge of the country, and usually the guarantee of getting a bear will be furnished for a reasonable fee. It is a dangerous, thrilling sport, this bear hunting. Often you must scale steep cliffs. Loose rocks, slippery pine needles, rotten sandstone are part of the chase. With hound music in your ears you will perform the unbelievable feats of endurance and daring. You will run until exhausted, drop under a pine tree, gulp in cold, strengthreviving mountain air, then in a minute or two you will dash off again after the dogs baying in the distance. Finally (or so we hope) will come that supreme moment. The dogs will jump the bear. A crescendo of hound harmony will burst on your ears. Don't laugh, layman, it is harmony, for the dogs are picked for voice as well as their ability to trail. Deep rich bays will furnish the bass for the melody carried by the higher-pitched voices in the pack. "Turkey mouths," "bell mouths" and "bugle mouths" will call you from a distant mountainside urging you to hurry, hurry, hurry. You will plunge on. Then suddenly you will know the race is run. For the clamor in the canyon will take on a definite rhythm -a cadence and though you have never before heard hounds baying a bear, you will know that the big game is stopped, and has turned to fight.

As you approach with caution, there will be no need to warn you, you will see dogs in a circle. They will flash in, then out, as the bear wheels to meet each charging hound. Small pig-like eyes will flash defiance, courage, and a terrible temper. And you will see that no encircling ring of dogs can hold him. For his paw will flash out to send a daring hound sprawling and yelping. Then enraged bruin will charge out of the circle and on up the canyon.

Farther on the hounds will bring him to bay again. This time you will be ready. As the bear charges you will raise your rifle, and in that moment which will live forever in your memory you will know the Arizona bear for what he is big game!

But, possibly you prefer to stalk your game instead of using hounds to trail them for you. If you do, try deer hunting.

It is a type of outdoor sport that will tax your skill as a woodsman. You will have to use the art which lies dormant in every man -a-hand-me-down from prehistoric relatives perhaps stealth. It is an absolute necessity to move quietly, because deer have the most sensitive ears of the game animals living in the forest. The snap of a twig, a crackle of dry leaves will cause him to look in your direction. And if the deer should hear and see you first the chances are you would never see or hear him. But finally, if and when you do see your buck, standing or lying in the shelter of a log or clump of brush, you'll be stopped, for a split second anyway, by sheer appreciation of his graceful beauty, the proud rack of horns, his alertness. He will be ready for instant flight. But, in spite of the itch of your trigger finger you will know the thrill that every hunter feels when he successfully stalks the wariest of all game animals.

There is still another sport that will give you pleasure on the mountains in those October days. It is the wild turkey.

It is agreed among hunters that the "Great American Bird" is the most difficult of all fowl to hunt. It takes real skill to rightly read the signs of feeding flocks. After you have located the feeding grounds you use a "call" on which you have been practicing for weeks if you are wise. (It takes diligent practice because a turkey demands perfection in its calls.) Soon you may be hearing the answering, plaintive, "quoick" of a feeding bird. It will take all the caution you can muster to move closer without frightening them. Another call on your "wing bone," or "box and slate," or "pipe stem" and the answer. You wait behind a log or brush. Seconds are minutes. Minutes are hours. And then the birds come!

Whether you are after the hounds, stalk the deer, or "have more time than the turkeys" you will enjoy yourself in Arizona's mountains during the hunting season. For even though you "give out" on the bear race, scare the deer or flush the birds, you will have fun and that's the point in any sport when you boil it down!

So, this fall when you sit on some mountainside, resting, you may hear the hounds in the distance. If they come close watch for the hunters. I may be one of them and I would like nothing better than to meet you in the West Fork, wild Sycamore, or up on the beautiful Mogollon Rim.

The AMERICAN TROTTER In Arizona

One of the most phenomenal developments in Arizona's sport field occurred last winter and spring with the completion of the first successful season of the Phoenix Driving Club. an organization which fostered and featured real, old-time light harness horse racing. Like a desert poppy blooming on an arid Arizona hillside, harness racing re-appeared in Phoenix this past year after being gone for more than a decade. In the early 1900's, such men as J. C. Adams, founder of the Adams Hotel, Tom Pollock, well-known cattle and lumberman, and many other prominent Arizonas owned and drove horses in the competitive field but not since then has this sport been active. During the winter of 1939-40, light harness horse racing in Phoenix, like anything that develops spontaneously, quickly became a source of enjoyment and drew the interest of a great many sportsmen. From a small beginning, in the late fall of 1939, when only seven men owned trotting horses in the Valley of the Sun, and were driving them, mostly in their own back yards for fun, the sport developed so rapidly that today the well-organized Phoenix Driving Club owns an excellent, half-mile track, a grandstand, and stables that can accommodate fifty horses which race regularly every Sunday and holiday afternoons during the season. All of this was accomplished in a few months by a strictly non-profit corporation whose members own and race some of the finest trotters and pacers in the United States today and race them entirely for the sport of racing. Many members of the present generation seem to know little or nothing about the sport of trotting horses though it is one phase of American activity that is truly an American product. It may be well to say something about the American trotter be cause it is due to this breed of horses that the clean, wholesome sport of harness racing is possible. A little over a hundred years ago when there were no highways and only a few good roads between the larger towns in the east, horses were the chief means of transportation. Proud was the man in those days who owned a horse that could pull him 50 or 60 miles between suns and prouder still was the man whose horse could out-trot that of his neighbors for a given distance. Horses were bred for endurance and speed and eventually the American Trotter was built from a mass of heterogeneous elements, including all those which showed speed at the trot in harness. However, the credit for bringing order out of chaos goes to the imported English Thoroughbred stallion, "Messenger," son of Lord Grovesnor's Mambrino of the Darley Arabian Line. This horse was brought to America in 1788 and established a genuine trotting family.

Messenger was the great-grandfather of a horse called Rysdyk's Hambletonian, foal ed in 1849. Hambletonian's speed influence was so great and has spread so wide and deeply that no other horse has ever surpassed it. The most important harness horse race in the United States today is the Hambletonian held each year at the famous track in Goshen, New York, within a mile of the grave of the great Hambletonian. Ninety percent of the horses racing in the United States and Canada now trail their ancestry to Hambletonian. All of the horses owned by the members of the Phoenix Driving club trace their lineage back to this grand old daddy of them all. Many of these horses, who will be seen in action on the Phoenix track this winter, race throughout the summer and fall monthsin the East, Middle West, and parts of California. But as the weather becomes colder and stormy and these areas are blanketed with snow, Phoenix affords an ideal climmate for such horses to winter cheaply, practically out-of-doors, and keep in shape for the following racing season. These were some of the things that the original members of the Phoenix Driving Club had in mind when the organization was founded. In November, 1939, a group of seven men, consisting of C. F. Sullivan, president of the club, Harry Ballah, vicepresident, Riney Salmon, secretary-treasurer, T. J. Carr, Harry McClain, track manager, Clyde Pennington, and C. R. Sullivan, got together and organized the Phoenix Driving Club. These men were lovers of the Standardbred horse; each owned a horse but had no place to race him properly. Besides being interested in this type of horse, they also enjoyed this form of out door recreation, which was not only sport for them but entertainment for their families and friends.

Almost before the Driving Club was incorporated the group had grown from seven to sixteen members, and, by the first of March, 1940, the club numbered more than thirty, all of whom purchased trotting and pacing horses from various parts of the United States and brought them to Phoenix. Only a few of the club members had ever had any experience with this type of horse . . . most of them didn't know a quarter boot from a set of hobbles and if a trotting sulky was referred to as a 'bike' looked surprised. But in their systems was the overpowering desire to be able to handle their own horses and to match their skill against the more experienced. There was a remarkable spirit of cooperation among all the drivers both the old and the new. The older men usually worked their horses early in the morning W. A. Webber, 75 years old, formerly of Rochester, N. Y. and E. J. Hedden, Phoenix business man, formerly of Palmyra, N. Y., meet in Phoenix and renew their acquaintance with the old sport after an absence of 20 years away from the race track. Both are members of the Phoenix Driving Club. Experienced drivers, they help youngsters in the fine points of the sport.

before they went to their business . . . sometimes displays a sense of humor, and, old and drove his first race last March this, they said, got them out in the open in of course the drivers are extremely good against his father. It was a matched race the early hours and gave them some needed sports. between father and son and the Senior King exercise before their routine day began. The oldest driver, The younger and less experienced drivers, Once during the first season when Harold W. A. Webber, is 75 years old and drives likewise, worked their horses along with the Swaney, a big, good-natured Phoenix busiregularly. It is not unusual during the more skilled drivers and learned from these ness man, who is known at the track as the early morning work-outs to see a number older men how to handle a horse on a track. "short-rib king" was having trouble keeping of women drivers jogging their horses for As the horses jogged along, the experienced his horse on his feet when scoring for the exercise and doubtless these drivers will apdrivers would advise the amateurs as to the start, the judge said: pear in public before another winter season essential details about or in racing. After "Mr. Swaney, I can't take care of you closes. they had jogged their horses for a number any longer; if you don't come down with the of miles they would usually score them two rest of them this time, I'll fine you four Most of the drivers are Phoenix men, old or three times and then leave for a good short-rib and two chicken dinners." and young, some fathers and sons, racing half-mile brush, after which the older drivagainst each other. No purses or prizes are ers would explain to the younger men where offered. These men drive for the pure love they had made mistakes. of the sport.

By December racing was well under way. Forty years ago, W. A. Webber, then of The track for the harness horse racing is Rochester, New York, drove matinee races well situated north of Phoenix on Seventh on the different circuits in New York state. Avenue about Osborn Road. From the For more than twenty years then he was grandstand the spectators look across the away from his favorite sport. One Sunday track at beautiful rows of eucalyptus, cotin December, 1939, Mr. Webber was driving tonwood, and palm trees, with the rugged down Seventh Avenue north of Phoenix peaks of Camelback, Squaw Peak, and the when he saw some trotting horses on the mountains to the north in the background. track of the newly-organized Phoenix DrivIt is a beautiful setting typically Ariing Club. zona and when the trotters appear on the track, with their drivers wearing bright colored silks, the race has a very festive beginning.

Harness horse racing follows a certain Mr. Swaney bowed in all politeness to the Immediately interested, he drove in, inprocedure and the races on the Phoenix judge as he heard the threat and he not quired about the racing, requirements to Driving Club track are conducted under the only came down with the rest of them at join the club, etc. Within an hour after same rules that apply on any official track. the start but won the heat race. his arrival Mr. Webber was a club memAs the horses parade past the grandstand ber. Thanking the officials for their courthe starting judge gives the drivers their Usually in each heat of a race some untesy he smiled and said, racing positions and usually instructs them usual incident happens which makes this "Boys, I've gone to California right now to score once at will to warm up their amateur racing truly great sport and may to get me a trotting horse. I'll see you next horses. The second time he tells them to account for the handful of spectators along Sunday."

come for the word (the word "go"). All the the fence increasing to a grandstand full drivers, whether experienced or amateurs, by the close of the season. And he did! Since then Mr. Webber has must follow the rules of the game and sufnot missed a day of racing, has increased fer penalties, if necessary, though the race Probably nowhere in the sport world is his stable by several more horses, and is a is not for a purse. there a wider range of ages in drivers than consistent winner. He says in another on the track of the Phoenix Driving Club. seventy years he'll really enjoy the sport.

At these races, the judge, though firm, The youngest driver, Billie King, is 11 years Another New York man who became a member of the club was E. J. Hedden. He came to Phoenix a few years ago and is now president of one of the leading confection-ary companies of Arizona. Many years ago Mr. Hedden was Secretary of the Pal-myra, New York, Fair Association. Palmyra has been the home of many trotters and pacers for more than fifty years. Mr. Webber and Mr. Hedden drove on the same track in New York long ago and their acquaintance was renewed after all these years when they met on the track of the Phoenix Driving Club.

It is not only these older men who enjoy winter driving in Phoenix. Cecil and Frank May are among the younger men who drive their own horses. These young Phoenix business men never pulled a line over a horse nor sat in a sulky until last winter. However, their father had been a reinsman of no small reputation before he brought his family west. Under the direction of Frank May, Sr., these boys are rapidly becoming good drivers. They are the proud owners of Abbie K. (2.06%) whose sire, Bert Abbie (1.594) is nationally known.

Al Loveland, another young driver, has made remarkable progress in a sport new to him. With no previous experience, Al, after a few weeks of training, came out one Sunday afternoon and won the first two heats that he ever drove in a race and did it against a good field of competition.

Tom King, member of the Phoenix Driving Club, never had a race horse in his lap until December, 1939. Tom has raced very successfully with his own horses and has also been doing an excellent job of driving Marie's Pat, owned by Mrs. Jane Carr of Phoenix. This little pacer stepped the fastest half-mile paced by any horse in California in 1938.

One might think as he sits in the grand stand at the track of the Phoenix Driving Club on a warm, still, winter afternon and watches members of the club, both young and old, breeze past with their bright silks flying and their horses traveling with all the grace and ease of a swallow, that there is nothing to driving a race horse but to sit there, hold a line in each hand, and go for the ride.

This is not true because there is much more to the sport of harness racing than the average spectoter realizes and a great deal of credit is due these amateur reinsmen who are dealing with something that is not mechanical but which is almost human.

Highly bred horses have always been notoriously neurotic. With the thoroughbred or running horse it is not necessarily serious, for he goes pretty much on his own during the progress of a race, with comparatively little restraint and in a perfectly natural gait.

But the trot or pace requires self-control on the part of the horse to keep from breaking into a run and the acme of skill and delicate handling on the part of the driver is necessary to maintain that self-control, steady him, and keep him in his stride.

Man and horse must understand each other perfectly and have the complete confidence and respect of the other. Therefore, successful drivers must be inherently kind and understanding and have unlimited patience. These qualifications are absolutely essential to success in harness horse racing because these drivers are dealing with an animal with almost a human heart.

It is with these ideals in mind that the members of the Phoenix Driving Club train and race their horses. Those of us who have seen them in early morning work-outs day after day can appreciate the effort and patience expended by these men to become good drivers.

Most people prefer the thoroughbred pacer to all others; perhaps this is because they have been so highly publicized which is not true of the trotter. But the American Trotter has a most enviable record for winning and particularly for his endurance.

One winter in Phoenix, years ago, Dan Patch, the great pacer, tried to break his world's record; he paced thirteen miles in one day, each time trying to set a new world's record. Few thoroughbreds have ever raced two miles at different times on the same day.

It might be of interest to mention the outstanding wonder horse of all time who was an American Trotter, and a mare at that... Goldsmith Maid.

She was a true American product, a trotter, foaled in 1857, made her first public appearance at the age of eight, trotted her last race at the age of twenty, and earned a total of $364,200. Her largest purse for one race was $5,000. She raced 440 miles in 16 different states, traveled 130,000 miles by rail alone, not to mention countless trips by her own power. She established a world record at the age of 17 and tied it again when 19. She made four different owners wealthy. Her record for winnings stood for over 50 years. It was topped by the recent thoroughbred, Sun Beau, who only raced 33 miles.

It is horses of her type and breed that the Phoenix Driving Club is re-introducing into Arizona's field of winter sports. No doubt before another winter season closes, there will be a great number of new members and fine horses added to the club.

Organized in the fall of 1939 with a few enthusiasts, membership and interest grew rapidly in the Phoenix Driving Club. The club has its own track, holds races each Sunday. The superb winter climate of the Valley of the Sun is expected to attract leading American stables to Phoenix this winter for conditioning and racing. With a few old time drivers as the nucleus, the Phoenix Driving club is interesting many young men in harness racing.

ONE burning summer afternoon in the 1850's, a troop of cav-alry rode into an army post somewhere in New Mexico with an Apache prisoner whose naked, bronzed body was streaked with war paint and dirt. The Apache was almost blind, and he held his hands over his red swollen eyes to shield them from the hot sun. With difficulty, the soldiers dragged the sullen Indian to headquarters, where the colonel attempted to question him. But the Indian remained mute, and it was evident from his attitude that he despised his white captors. The condition of the Apache's eyes wor-ried the colonel, and before having his pris-oner thrown in the guard house, he called in young Doctor Thorne, the army surgeon. The Doctors examination was brief. “Sir, this Indian has trachoma.” “I was afraid of that,” the colonel said. “We can't keep him here he'll infect the whole post. Turn him loose.” Dr. Thorne looked sadly at the proud warrior, and he knew that the man's unexpected freedom would be useless to him, for he would soon be totally blind. The doctor pleaded with the colonel to hold the Apache at the post for treatment, and he said, “I will take the full re-sponsibility.” Reluctantly the colonel con-sented. Dr. Thorne soon discovered that the Apache warrior had no more use for him than for the other white men. The Indian took his treatments unwillingly, even after the infection in his eyes began to clear up. And when he was at last set free, he left without once expressing gratitude for what Dr. Thorne had done. The army post soon forgot him. Months passed, then one day Dr. Thorne received an urgent summons from the colOneL.

OneL. When he walked into headquarters, he was astonished to see his former patient, the defiant Apache, standing there with two other young braves. No war paint was on their bronzed bodies, and they looked as if they had traveled a long distance. There was a grim smile on the face of the colonel as he explained to Dr. Thorne that his kindness to an Apache had resulted in a strange invitation. Dr. Thorne turned to the Indians. Their impassive faces ex-pressed nothing, but one of the warriors stepped forward and said in poor Spanish: “Our people are suffering. Darkness is falling over their eyes, and our medicine men can do nothing. You have burned the evil spirits from the eyes of our brother. We ask you to return with us and bring light to our stricken people.” Dr. Thorne was deeply moved by the re-quest, and he asked the colonel for permission to make the journey. The colonel shook his head dubiously, and explained that these Indians came from the unknown country north of the Gila River, the strong-hold of the Apaches which few white men had ever seen a country where the Apaches were so entrench-ed that the territorial troops were not strong enough to penetrate it. “If you go, Thorne, we

Dr. Thorne's "Lost Mine"

will never see you again,” the colonel said.

The next morning, Dr. Thorne and the three Apaches set out across the desert on a trail that led to Arizona. They rode sil ently, the doctor following the lead of two warriors, and the third Apache riding be hind with the pack mule.

As he rode along, the young surgeon was filled with a sense of deep excitement, a surge of personal triumph that he had made his decision without hesitation. But as the distance between him and the army post lengthened, he had an impulse to look back -to reconsider his decision and to ask him self if he had been a fool. Doubt began to creep into his mind.

When the little party topped out on a mesa, Dr. Thorne pulled up, and slowly turn ed his horse around. Far away, in the dis tant haze, he saw the army post, the symbol of the white man's power in this western wilderness. And once more he heard the colonel's warning: "If you go, Thorne, we will probably never see you again."

Suddenly he realized that the three In dians had also stopped, and without glanc ing at them, he understood that they knew he would make his final decision now. For some reason, he looked down at his strong, steady hands. He thought. "These hands have been trained to heal the sick. If I don't use them this time, I will never have the courage to use them again."

Dr. Thorne turned his horse around to ward the unknown country. He nodded to his companions. "Lead on," he said casually. And for the first time in his life, he saw an Apache smile. The four of them rode down off the mesa, and the army post was lost to sight.

As they traveled westward, the doctor no ticed that the Indians took more and more precautions against danger and attack, and he realized with surprise that they were traveling through territory that was hostile even to these Apaches. At night, they made no campfire, and they kept watch in a way which amazed the army surgeon. Never again he thought, would he feel safe in an army camp where the sentries marched up and down kicking brush and stumbling in the darkness, making so much noise that an enemy could creep up on them unnoticed. The Apaches kept watch in a very different manner. The three warriors would lie down to sleep in a small circle, so close together that they could touch each other with an outstretched arm. While the other two slept, one warrior lay awake listening, and with his ears near the ground, he could hear sounds from a much greater distance than if he had been sitting up or standing. When his watch was up, he touched his companion, and the watch was changed silently and without movement.

army camp where the sentries marched up and down kicking brush and stumbling in the darkness, making so much noise that an enemy could creep up on them unnoticed. The Apaches kept watch in a very different manner. The three warriors would lie down to sleep in a small circle, so close together that they could touch each other with an outstretched arm. While the other two slept, one warrior lay awake listening, and with his ears near the ground, he could hear sounds from a much greater distance than if he had been sitting up or standing. When his watch was up, he touched his companion, and the watch was changed silently and without movement.

The first two nights, Dr. Thorne slept in his bedroll just outside the circle. But on the third night, his feeling of comrad-ship with the Indians was so strong that he could not help moving his bedroll into the circle. He waited tensely to see whether they would accept him. The three Apache warriors made room for the doctor without comment, and immediately went to sleep. The first watch was Dr. Thorne's the three Indians had entrusted him with their lives for one quarter of the night.

DRAWINGS BY Ross Santee

But though the Apaches trusted the doc tor to guard them while they slept, they would not allow him to see the landmarks that pointed the trail into their home country. On the fourth morning, as they left camp, one of the warriors rode up and pointed to the doctor's bandanna. Wonder ing what it was about, Dr. Thorne took the kerchief from around his neck and handed it to the Apache, and the Indian casually rolled up the bandanna and tied it around the white man's eyes. Involuntarily, the doctor reached up to tear the blindfold away, but the strong fingers of the Apache gently pushed his hand down.

All that day the doctor's horse was led by an Indian brave. The young surgeon knew that they were climbing into high rough country, for he could feel the cool breeze, and smell the pungent odor of pine. Later, they took a precipitous trail down into lower country, and the doctor knew they were following a stream because he could hear the gurgle of the water. Toward evening, the murmur of many voices reached his ears, and suddenly the horses stopped. An Apache rode up and removed the blind fold. Dr. Thorne blinked and looked around him. He was in an Apache rancheria. He had reached the end of the trail on his mis sion of mercy.

For a moment, the young doctor stared at the Apache men, women and children who ran up to stare at him and for a moment, his curiosity was as great as theirs. But as he looked down into the upturned faces, and his eyes traveled from one to another, he was conscious of only one sensation-a feeling of shock that was like a physical blow. Nearly every pair of eyes that looked at him was infected with the dread tra choma.

But Dr. Thorne soon discovered that he had to fight for the right to treat these stricken people. The next morning, when he went to work in the new wickiup built for him by the Apache women, several war riors, including the chief came to have their eyes attended to. But when these pa tients were gone, no others came to take their places.

Dr. Thorne waited awhile, and then, de ciding that his procedure must be wrong, he picked up his medicine kit and went out. He had taken only a few steps when he passed a small boy with badly inflamed eyes. The doctor stopped, but before he

could even speak to the child, a buxom Indian woman ran out of a nearby wickiup and, dragging the little boy behind her, stared at the white doctor with both fear and defiance. The doctor was conscious of a sudden unnatural silence. Bewildered, he looked around, and saw that the entire tribe seemed to be assembled in the camp street. They were watching him furtively, but their real attention was riveted on a proud old man, wearing a headdress of eagle feathers, who stood with folded arms his cold and glittering eyes filled with hate, fixed on the doctor.

So, at last, Dr. Thorne was face to face with the medicine man. And he did not have to be told that if this old man remained his enemy, most of the tribe would go blind. He realized, with a feeling of both anger and frustration, that he alone could never hope to conquer the religious fears of the Apaches.

How could he get the medicine man on his side?

Dr. Thorne beckoned to the warrior who spoke Spanish. "Tell the medicine man," he said, "that I will give him my medicine and show him how to put it into the sore eyes of your people, so that he can heal them himself. If he will do this, I will leave him much medicine, and he will never have to call a white doctor into his country. He will be the only medicine man among all the Apaches who will have the power to prevent his people from going blind."

The doctor turned on his heel and went quickly to his wickiup. He did not want the Indians to see anxiety written on his face for in his heart he knew that if this failed, there was nothing else he could do.

At sunset, the medicine man came to the doctor's wickiup. The old man made no ex planation, but he brought with him a boy whom the doctor had encountered that morn ing, and Dr. Thorne understood that he was to go ahead with his treatments.

For the next four months Dr. Thorne labored unceasingly, driving the infection from the Indian's eyes, and teaching the old medicine man how to handle the healing solutions. And finally the day came when he felt his work was done. A tired and weary man, he went to the chief of the tribe, and said he was ready to return home.

The next morning at dawn, Dr. Thorne found his pack mule and horse before his wickiup, and his three guides waiting. All the tribe was there to tell him goodbye, and on their faces he could see their gratitude for what he had done and their sadness at his going. Thorne rode away from them with a feeling of deep peace. When they were outside the camp, one of his Indian guides grinned and pointed at the bandanna, and Dr. Thorne, with a smile of un derstanding, started to tie the blindfold over his own eyes. Then he hesitated, and impulsively looked back for one last glimpse of the rancheria that lay so tranquil and se cure in the heart of this vast and beautiful wilderness. He was suddenly filled with a sense of irreparable loss, and he quickly tied the bandanna in place, lest the Indians see the tears that might come into his eyes. The doctor rode away from the rancheria slumped over his saddle, deep in his melancholy thoughts. And when, in less than an hour, his horse stopped and the blindfold was removed, Dr. Thorne was completely at a loss. He rubbed his eyes, and saw that they were in a canyon with high walls that glittered in the sunlight. He looked questioningly at his Indian companions, and he found them grinning at him and holding up big chunks of yellow rock which they were picking up from the sand wash. One of them said triumphantly: "Pesh-la-chi! For You!" and put something in his hand.

Dr. Thorne looked at it without comprehension. He turned it over several times, and his eyes widened with amazement. It was gold a gold nugget. Dazedly, he gazed at the sand wash, and saw that it was covered with nuggets the stamping feet of the horses were kicking the golden stones around.

Sweat broke out on the doctor's hands. Slowly his eyes moved up the canyon wall, and he saw it was rose-quartz flecked with gold. He said softly: "A gold mine."

The idea that he could become a rich man had never before occurred to Dr. Thorne. Now, staring at this mountain of gold, the thought struck him full force. The possibility of enormous wealth took hold of him instantly as an accomplished fact, and like a man who has been moved miraculously from one planet to another, his mind spread out to encompass a new and intoxicating world.

Dr. Thorne looked down at his Indian companions to express his joy, when suddenly he was paralyzed with a deadly chain of thought. "The blindfold it's their country they won't let me take out any more than I can carry away now. Showing their pleasure, the Indians pressed the gold nuggets into the doctor's hands, and began to pile them into his saddle bags. And forcing himself to appear disinterested-Dr. Thorne threw the nuggets away. "Pesh-la-chi! Yellow metal!" cried the bewildered Indians.

Dr. Thorne shook his head. "No, rock." He motioned the Indians to get going, and all the time his sharp eyes were taking in landmarks. Before they tied the blindfold over his eyes, he had noted well the high mountain in the distance crowned with a rocky formation that looked like a sombrero. He was sure that he could find it again.

On the way back to the army post, the Indians could not travel fast enough for Dr. Thorne. When they stopped to make camp, he urged them to travel just a little farther. At night, he was so impatient that he could hardly sleep, but he did not take his turn at the watch, for he no longer felt like lying in the circle in comradeship with the Apaches. During the long rides through the day, his thoughts dwelled on only two things what he was going to do with his riches, and the task of photographing on his mind, so that he could never forget them, the landmarks he had seen around the canyon of gold.

In the 1850's, it was not easy to find white men who were willing to go prospecting into the Indian country. But after many months, Dr. Thorne finally got his expedition together. His confidence, his driving will, and his vivid description of what he had seen, convinced people and fired their enthusiasm against their better judgment.

As soon as his resignation from the army was accepted, Dr. Thorne set out with three prospectors to find the butte shaped like a sombrero. As they traveled westward, they were on the alert for trouble with the Indians, but not once were they molested. When they got into the heart of the Apache country, they relaxed their viligance, even though they could see smoke signals all around them for nothing seemed important but the location of the sombrero butte.

At last the day came when Dr. Thorne shouted: "There it is!" They spurred on their horses, and the doctor galloped ahead looking for the canyon of gold. He found many canyons, but every time he rode into one, he saw that the washes held only valueless sand. And as the days passed, and the search became more desperate, Dr. Thorne saw other buttes resembling sombreros, and still more canyons that were empty of treasure. His companions became sullen and apprehensive, and they began to quarrel and grumble, and accuse Dr. Thorne of lying to them. They soon talked about the smoke signals to the exclusion of everything else, and they insisted on returning home. Dr. Thorne pleaded with them to be patient, but it was useless. The prospectors turned back, and the doctor was forced to follow them.

Dr. Thorne did not give up, and he succeeded in persuading other prospectors to accompany him on his second trip. But this expedition was a worse failure than the first the disappointment and bitterness were greater than before and the prospectors reported that every mountain Dr. Thorne saw resembled a sombrero.

In spite of these two failures, Dr. Thorne still felt that he could find his canyon of gold. But he could no longer persuade anyone else to believe in it. When he wanted to tell the story, people either laughed at him or jeered and called him an impostor. Dr. Thorne might have forgotten his lost gold mine, and gone to some new place to start his life over again. But he was a proud man, and the contempt and disbelief he met on every side ate into his soul. The need to justify himself became the driving force of his life. And as the years went by without giving him an opportunity to prove that he had told the truth, he became an old and embittered man.

In his loneliness, he would look down at his hands, which were now stiff and gnarled, and say to himself: "But I am not an imposter. I did see it. My horse walked on a pavement of gold nuggets."

R-14 Apache Cattle King

Soon on the tiresome trail with three score sleek steers, their hoofs clicking metallically on the rocky terrain. This initial steer drive taught R-14 a lesson in the marketing of cattle he never forgot. It was this: Steers could lose more weight in five days from hard driving than they could gain from lush grazing in five months. He, thereupon, decided to move his entire herd on a new range; one that would be closer to market. Upon reaching Warm Springs, near where Carrizo Canyon joins the gorgeous Salt River chasm, about half of the herd now sore-footed, could walk no farther. R-14 took advantage of the time-out period to do some reconnoitering. After a laborious climb from the floor of the canyon to the north rim, he let his horse stop to blow. R-14 thrust back his head to survey the surrounding country. An unclaimed cattleman's paradise loomed before him! Stretching northward as far as his eye was able to discern, vast swales of lush grass, bobbing in the brisk breeze, seemed to be begging the copper-colored cattleman to turn his herd loose. Eastward and northward rode R-14. The farther he went, the more he thought of the range. Finally, upon arriving atop a gently rising eminence, he feasted his eyes on a long thread of greenery twisting far to the northward. A long zigzaging line of cottonwood trees! To a native Arizonan that could mean but one thing: water. That was the high valley of Cedar Creek, and in it wise R-14 pitched his permanent camp. Thus by the simple stroke of prior settlement, he established valid claim to approximately 150,000 acres of grazing country; a cattle range with practically unlimited potential possibilities. Roughly, its south boundary was the Salt River rim; its northern, the mighty Mogollon backbone. The box canyon of Carrizo Creek on the west side, for a long time was considered the limit of his range there, and Ft. Apache itself was only ten miles east from its east border. Thus, R-14 had moved his cattle at least three days closer to market!

Realizing that this new range was capable of supporting many, many times the number of cattle he then had, R-14 journeyed into Sonora and purchased an hundred head of Mexican cows and heifers. These animals lacked the bone needed to support the beef, which R-14 desired to produce, and it was at this stage in his game that the Army again did some pinch-hitting for him. In the dairy herd at the Post were some big-boned Herefords, and the officer in charge there supplied R-14 a number of these calves. In this way our Apache cattleman's herd was put on a firm foundation, John Moore, R-14's foreman for 20 years, and an Apache cowboy, leading "outlaw" steers. Here they are "topping out" of Salt River canyon, near U. S. highway 60.

R-14 and Friend

R-14 numbered many white men among his friends. He always listened to advice, always paid close attention to business.

As its subsequent history clearly bears out. The reader must remember that the Government had not, as yet, adopted the general policy of encouraging the Apaches to engage in the cattle business. However, when the War Department turned over to the Department of the Interior the reins for governing the natives, some encouragement was extended in this line. In the meantime, R-14's herd was steadily and rapidly increasing. Also the wonder that so unschooled and untutored an Indian as R-14, could succeed in what was considered a white man's game, spread. Occasionally, some returned student from a distant non-reservation school would offer advice to the big cattleman. In 1911 one such student persuaded R-14 that his pre-contracted price of $35 a head for steers was not enough money. R-14 first pursed his lips for a minute, and then told the scholar to go ahead and see if he could get more money for the steers. When questioned by the Army officer as to what he (the student) would consider a fair price, the latter answered, "Three steers one hundred dollars, all right."

On another occasion R-14 sold the Post fifty head of steers in a single lot. After the receiving officer had computed the total amount of his bill, amounting to some $1800, he asked the native cattleman how much money he would want as down payment. R-14 studied a moment, and suddenly thrust out two fingers. "Two dollars, flour," and then emphasizing his index finger, stipulated, "Fifty cents, coffee; fifty cents, sugar!"

At roundup time R-14 always made it his business to be on hand to admonish his help. He had his own ideas as to how the various cowboy activities on his range should be executed, and while white cowboys who have worked for him say that he would listen to what anyone had to say, nevertheless, in almost all instances his own mature judgment triumphed. To all his help he emphasized the importance of leaving the heifers. "I want lots calves," he would say; "leave all heifers on range." One of his cowboys, a white, (one of whom he engaged to help on almost every roundup) found an old blue-black cow on his rounds one day. R-14, when informed of the find, asked the cowboy to ride with him out to see her. The critter was an extremely heavy, beefy brute, and as the cowboy pointed her out to the big boss, he commented, "Cow's pretty old; better sell her before she dies on your hands." R-14 looked her over, all the while pulling at his goatee. After meditating a minute or two, he beckoned the cowboy to leave her alone. Pushing out his lips, (the Apache way of pointing out something) the long-haired cattleman explained, "I no sell him; he all same my brother."Undoubtedly, he was thinking of that old black cow they didn't kill the critter that enabled him to start his marvelous career as a cattleman!

His biggest year was 1918. That year his sales amounted to $45,000. That was the year, you will recall, when the Government needed money. The Ft. Apache Reservation Superintendent suggested to R-14 that he put two or three thousand dollars in Liberty bonds. He bought $25,000 worth! And later to punctuate his patriotism, he purchased $5,000 worth of Victory bonds. He still had plenty left for sugar and cof-fee.

How much was he worth at his peak? That would be impossible to answer de-finitely, but this much is certain: he never went "broke" and for years and years from 6000 to 10,000 head of cattle roamed over his 150,000 acre range! At a conservative, estimated, average price of $32.50-well, you figure it.

The Indian reservation superintendent, eager to see his wards progress in various lines, induced R-14 to build himself a cozy four-room cottage. But he had spent too many years moving about unhampered in a wickiup to be satisifed in a house. Moreover, the cottage wasn't so fittingly arranged for accomodating three housewives simultaneously! Yes, R-14 was a polygamist. To maintain harmony in his household he permitted each of his wives to cling to her wickiup, and the cottage made an excellent storage room for chaps, saddles, etc. All told, R-14 fathered twenty-seven children!

Unlike most wealthy Indians, R-14, having amassed his fortune largely through self-denial, did not spend wastefully. In 1919 he accompanied the superintendent and one or two others, to see the Great White Father in Washington, D. C. With all his thousands, he did not purchase a car until the spring of 1926. At that time John Moore, long a cherished friend and counselor of the famous cattleman, drove a new Dodge touring car from Globe to the wickiup of R-14. Some of his sons, however, developed "newcaritis," and thereafter kept persuading their sire to buy better and better automobiles.

As mentioned earlier in this article, one naturally associates firewater with wealthy Indians. While R-14 did drink, it was always in moderation; thus proving that liquor doesn't necessarily tipple the taste of all Indians who partake of it. He drank barrels of "tulapai," the drink Apaches make from corn. Someone pointed to R-14's prominent abdomen one day and asked, "Lots big like fat steer; how come?" The cattleman's eyes snapped, and after emitting a series of "spts," replied, "Lots Tu'pai, me." His index finger traced his gullet.

Given free rein, God only knows to what heights R-14 might have risen in his chosen cattle business. Eventually, however, the Government, desirous of getting other Indians started at the game, began cutting down his range. On one occasion sheep were placed on a large tract of his bovine Eden.

At the time of his death in 1937, his range was estimated to contain approximately 7,000 head of cattle. To settle his estate so that it would be agreeable to all his heirs, it was decided that all his herd should be gathered and sold. During the last two years between six and seven thousand head have been removed.

In one sense of the word, the old saying, "You can't take it with you" doesn't hold true in the case of R-14. Interred with the body of the Apache cattle king are many silver certificates in denominations of ones, fives, tens. Many colored silk shirts were included to gladden R-14's journey to the Happy Hunting Ground. Also a sack of corn for tulapai-making.The annals of Arizona Indian history have indeed been ennobled and enriched by R-14's having lived. As an Indian cattleman he never had probably never will have a peer.

R-14 and Brothers

Started in the cattle business by his father, R-14, aided by his brothers, first began by selling beef to the government. He showed uncanny judgment as a cattleman.

Along the Highways and Byways . . .

HE CAN FISH AS WELL AS ACT: Mr. Edward Arnold of the cinema is one of the famous figures of the motion pictures. His acting ability is attested to by the great success of his role: “Diamond Jim” Brady. Mr. Arnold is also a trout fisherman as well as an actor, as the accompanying photograph shows.

Our interest in Mr. Arnold as a fisherman comes from the fact that much of his fishing is done each summer in the streams of the Apache National Forest in the White Mountains region of Arizona. Relatives of Mr. Arnold are residents of Springerville. He became interested in the country through visits to Springerville, and it wasn't long before he was a true-blue Arizona trout fisher man.

Mr. Arnold is one of many distinguished Americans who come each year to Arizona to fish and to hunt. Every true sportsman will find Arizona a paradise for both these great out-of-doors sports. Even Diamond Jim would be pleased.

TROUT IN THE COLORADO RIVER: Yes, it's true! There are a lot of big trout in the Colorado river and this season has introduced to many fishermen what is considered the most exciting trout stream in America.

But how, you ask, will trout live in that red, muddy waterflow we know as the Colorado? The Colorado has be come a trout stream, not with mirrors, but by virtue of a modest pile of shapely concrete called Boulder Dam.

Water released from the dam is crystalline clear, and for about 25 miles below the dam the river maintains a temperature of about 54 degrees, perfect for trout growth and trout culture.

Those far-seeing gentlemen of the National Park Service stocked the stream with trout shortly after the dam was built and then went away and forgot them. The trout grew and prospered and this season fishermen have had the pleasure of pulling out whoppers that in instances have measured well over two feet. That visual evidence of the size of trout caught in the Colorado will not be lacking we supply with this note a picture of two trout caught below the dam this season, both of which measure about 22 inches. Imagine having one of those, fighting mad, on the end of your line.

There are two approaches to this trout-fishing paradise. One is by boat from Lake Havasu, the less arduous of the two. The other is by hiking from Boulder Dam down the river.

THE MOVIES (CONTINUED): Alexander Korda's production, “The Thief of Bagdad,” is soon to be shown in the theatres of the country. Some of the exteriors of the picture were taken ...

in northern Arizona, particularly around the Grand Canyon and the Painted Desert. Watch for them when “The Thief of Bagdad” comes to your favorite theatre. (Where have we heard that one before?) The world premiere of “Arizona,” the motion picture based on the novel by C. B. Kelland, is now set definitely for early November, with Tucson chosen as the host city. Inasmuch as the picture was made near Tucson, and inasmuch as the picture deals with the story of old Tucson, a better location for the world premiere of “Arizona” couldn't be found. We know, too, that the good folks of Tucson are getting ready to stage a premiere that will be something to see and to talk about.

A very special and private operative (that sounds exciting and secretive but it merely means we talked to a person who knows a person) informs us that “Valley of the Sun,” a motion picture to be made from the second of the triology of novels based on Arizona by C. B. Kelland, is progressing very nicely. Location scouts are at this time giving some thought to the Wickenburg area for the exteriors. Joel McCrea is tentatively selected for the leading male role. Filming may begin early this fall. RKORadio will do the honors.

POSTSCRIPT: DAVEY JONES' DESERT LOCKER: Davey and Corky Jones, whose charming apartment in ages-old Wupatki Ruins was described by Natt Dodge in the September issue of this more-or-less highway journal, have now moved to their new home on the Monument. (Address: David J. Jones, Ranger, Wupatki National Monument, in case you want to be dull and formal.) In moving from the Ruin, Davey Jones sends us this postscript: “This marks the final abandonment of Wupatki. The prehistoric Indians began construction of the ruin about 1050 A. D. and stayed until almost 1300.

A. D. Then came a long period of abandonment during which the pueblo fell into ruins. Finally in 1934 the Museum of Northern Arizona in cooperation with the National Park Service restored the rooms in which we have been living.

"Visitors have always been interested in our quarters, and as a result we have always had what one might call an open house. To live out in this country seems strange enough to them, but to actually live in the ruin is almost beyond their imagination. They want to see how the rooms have been made liveable. It is not without misgivings that we leave for the more comfortable and spacious residence, for we shall miss the many friendships we have made within these walls, or rather the opportunity to make them."

We wonder if it has ever occurred to modern architects to ask themselves this question: Will the buildings and homes I so adroitly throw up nowadays be fit for occupancy in the good year 2830 A. D. If you don't think so, go to Wupatki better to learn your lesson.

STREETS OF SONORA:

If your horizons and whimsy's gay beckon bring you to our West this season, may we suggest an evening strolling along the streets of one of the Mexican towns of Sonora, snuggling so cosily along the border that separates two Nations and two States. These are very accessible and your trip to our west will not be complete unless you experience street strolling in Sonora. For street strolling in Sonora is an experience. You can go to Nogales, just across the line from our Nogales; to Sonoyta, a few miles south of Ajo; to Agua Prieta, across the street from Douglas; to Naco, not far from Bisbee and even to a small hamlet south of Yuma.

Now take the main street of Nogales, Sonora, one, of the busiest and biggest main streets in all of Sonora. During the day it is sunny and the people go about their business as if they had places to go and things to do. In the afternoon during the siesta hour things slow down as if the people had decided that there were no places to go, no things to do.

In the evening, the main street of Nogales, Sonora, is at its best. Street vendors lounge about shouting their wares. The shops are open, radios and phonographs blare out their lively tunes, the little Fordcitos, the taxi cabs, limp perilously and with loud noise from side to side dodging dogs, children, and assorted pedestrians. Everyone who has a car apparently goes out for a ride down the main street. People who have no car go strolling or sit about on benches smoking and talking.

The street is so alive, so boisterously alive, so full of noise, talk, chatter, music, laughter. Can anything defeat and conquer such a people whose evening in the street takes on a few of the happier moments of a carnival? And every evening is the same.

There are a couple of young men, all dressed up obviously calling on their best girls. There are a group of men on the street corner discussing the situation between Almazan and Camacho, their conversation bubbling with good humor. There are two old ladies, sitting in front of their homes, laughing and screaming their jokes at two old ladies across the street, one of whom is smoking roll-your own cigarettes. There are a couple of American visitors, going in and out of shops, confused by the furor but interested and pleased in the life about them. A shop owner is standing in front of his shop, just standing, completely at ease. Two little Mexican boys come by, their shine boxes slung over their shoulders. They are more interested in the jokes small boys always have between them than they are in the shoe shine business.

There is no hurrying for business. In the street full of people there doesn't seem to be a care for anything. Just jokes and conversation and laughter. Always there is laughter and gaiety. You marvel that just loitering about a street can be such fun. But that is a Mexican street, and gaiety and laughter is always a part of the Mexican street scene.

Four or five guitar players come trudging along, going from bar to bar, the small tips they receive for their music, perhaps their sustenance. But gayer, friendlier ministrels never lived. That is Mexico! Sonora is Mexico! . . . R. C.

Up in the hills of Mohave county, between Kingman and Oatman, is a tree described, and perhaps with justification, as the "world's largest fig tree."

It would be a task for a very painstaking scientist to measure all the fig trees in the world to prove or disapprove the claim of the folks up in Mohave county, but be that as it may, Mohave county's fig tree is worthy of note.

It is an immense tree, bearing rich, lucious fruit. The country about is a barren country, rolling hills whose sparse vegetation speaks of scanty water. And then you come upon the fig tree, a miraculous growth, whose size and strength seems to hurl defiance at the surrounding country. Nearby is a spring, to which the tree owes its life.

The tree is a challenge to the historian. Its age is a problem for the scientist. Who planted it? That is a secret held by the slow, passing years. The tree won't tell. Nor will the spring close by.

From a Roadbuilder's Notebook . . THE RIGHT-OF-WAY DIVISION:

The right-of-way division fits into the Arizona highway department like a spark plug fits into an automobile engine. It is a duty of the division to secure all right-of-way because without that there could be no highway.

The location engineers and the plans division find out the best possible route for the new road to be built. The need of the new road is first determined by traffic demands. Then the path of the road has to be determined, with ultimate building costs and engineering problems always of foremost consideration. When old roads are being renovated and straightened new land must be secured. The problem of securing the right-of-way for new roads and for old roads calls for the right-ofway division.

Section 1570, revised code of Arizona, crisply describes this procedure as follows: "The commission, in the name of the state, may acquire title to lands, or any interest therein, by purchase, donation, dedication or condemnation, for rights-of-way or camp sites, water ог material needed in construction, improvement or maintenance of state highways, or for spoil banks, or as rights-of-way giving access to spoil banks or to any bed, pit, quarry, or other place where material required in the construction, improvement, or maintenance of state highways may be located. The right of eminent domain may be exercised by the state for such purpose and the courts wherin such actions are pending, shall give such actions precedence over other civil actions. The commission may dispose of any real property or any right, title, or interest therein, whenever it determines that the same is no longer needed or used for highway purposes, and may exchange the right-of-way to be abandoned for another right-of-way."

The personnel of the right-of-way division is composed of one right-of-way agent, two assistants, two draftsmen, and one secretary. Harry Duberstein, a registered civil engineer, is right-of-way agent for the Arizona highway department.

A W. P. A. project, employing from five to ten persons, and classified as a professional office project, has been engaged for the past eighteen months in drawing right-of-way maps from information obtained by searching records in the office of the division, county recorders' offices, county supervisors' offices, government and state land departments. These maps are for the purpose of showing the acquisition of right-ofway for the highway department in Each county of the state. These maps show the date of acquisition, method of acquisition, whether paid for, acquired by donation or by dedications, the width of the right-of-way, and from whom obtained. Each set of county right-of-way maps have an index page, indicated by a smaller map. In other words this project has been engaged in the interesting job of classifying every inch of right-of-way owned by the highway department, and preparing the information in such form as to be readily and easily obtainable.

Land owned by the highway department is 25 per cent public domain or state owned land, 40 per cent is Indian reservations, forest reserves national parks and military reservations, and 35 per cent is privately owned land. Of the privately owned land, 50 per cent is range land, which leaves a very small fraction of land traversed by the state highway system in the category of valuable private property.

All new highways in the system and relocated highways or old highways alterated in keeping with greater travel needs must have a right-of-way varying from one hundred to four hundred feet. Highways through government domain must have a right-of-way four hundred feet wide; other government agencies allow for a right-of-way 200 feet wide, and right-of-way secured from private sources must be from one hundred too two hundred feet wide. All new highways or relocated highways are fenced and have cattle passes.

When you consider that there are over 3,000 miles of highways in the state system you realize the vast amount of work that is carried on in the right-of-way division. The constantly expanding needs of the system call for new highways, relocation of highways, highway camps, material pits, and other acquisitions for various materials and conveniences for the road builders. All of this is the right-of-way division's headache and sometimes it becomes quite a headache.

Difficulties arise occasionally over private property needed for rights-ofway. An owner will demand so much for his property. The division, after close study of property values, will offer so much. If a fair compromise cannot be reached court action is taken to settle the manner equitably to all concerned. The division strives to purchase land for the system at prices fair to the private owner, but also fair to the state. Rather than settle with owners asking in the opinion of the division, exorbitant prices, a friendly suit is brought in court so that the rights of the owner and the state are equally considered.

Sometimes the division has difficulty locating an owner of a piece of land to acquire title to property needed. Long and searching investigations, like finding a needle in a haystack, are needed to find owners. One such investigation led to the discovery of the property owner back east, who had not been in Arizona for years. When she was finally approached for the right-of-way a certain sum of money was offered. She replied she would settle for a subscription to ARIZONA HIGHWAYS, which is one meritorious way in which this magazine earns its own keep.

Hundreds of problems arise, each of which must be worked out patiently and carefully. Getting a right-of-way through an Indian reservation has its problems, for instance. The division must submit plans and alignments to the Indian agent, who, if he approves, takes the matter up with the tribal council. Upon approval of the tribal council, the matter, with recommendations, are submitted to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, Washington D. C., who, in turn, presents the matter for the consideration of the Secretary of the Interior. Following approval all along the line, the right-of-way question then comes back to the Indian reservation where threefourths of the eligible voters must vote on the matter, and two-thirds majority of those voters must vote their approval. Then the right-of-way division is notified and work begins on the road. Some fun, eh! kid?... R. C.

Road Projects Under Construction DISTRICT NO. 1

W. E. Orr, Contractor, has a contract for grading and draining the roadway, furnishing and placing crushed select material, constructing one three-span reinforced concrete bridge and other work incidental to the construction of one mile of the Flagstaff-Lake Mary highway, beginning at Lake Mary and extending northwesterly. Construction is to be completed by October 31, 1940. F. A. S. Project 7-B (1) 1939. A. F E. 645. C. S. Benson, resident engineer.

Lee Moor Contracting Co., has a contract for grading and draining the roadway, furnishing and placing aggregate base course, and a Portland cement concrete pavement 22 feet wide with salvaged oil mix shoulders 7 feet wide. The contract begins at the junction of the Flagstaff-Williams and the Flagstaff-Lake Mary Highways in Flagstaff, and extends westerly toward Williams for a distance of approximately 2.6 miles. The work is to be completed by November 30, 1940. F. A. Project 24-A D-1 (1941). A. F. E. 6623. C. S. Benson, resident engineer.

Bids have been called for 2:00 P. M. September 6, 1940 for grading and draining the roadway; furnishing and placing imported borrow, course and fine aggregate base course, and a plant mixed bituminous surface; and the construction of four small concrete structures and three structures over 20 feet clear span and other work incidental to the construction and relocation of 5% miles of the Kingman-Boulder Dam Highway. Work is to be completed by January 15, 1941. F. L. project 2-F (1) 1941 and non-F. A. projects 102-B & C (1941) A. F. E. 9314. Lee Moor Contracting Company, El Paso, Texas, has a contract for grading, draining the roadway, furnishing and placing aggregate base course and a Portland cement Modern travelers demand good roads, wide roads and fast roads. Arizona highway builders are constantly increasing the effectiveness of the Arizona highway system to fill the needs of the modern traveler. concrete pavement 22 feet wide, with salvaged oil mix shoulders 7 feet wide. The contract begins about 8 miles west of Flagstaff and extends northwesterly toward Williams for a distance of approximately 1.5 miles on the Ashfork-Flagstaff highway. The work is to be completed by November 30, 1940. F. A. Project 24-A (6) (1941), A. F. E. 6624. C. S. Benson, resident engineer.

Tanner Construction Company, Phoenix, Arizona, has a contract for grading, and draining the roadway over a re-located line. Placing an aggregate base course and plant mixed bituminous surface, using an (SC-6) road oil. The construction of one 4 span 10'x7'x66' concrete box culvert and the widening of one 2 span 22' concrete box culvert. The construction of one 2 span 8'x4'x44.5' concrete box culvert and the widening of three smaller concrete box culverts; and such other miscellaneous work incidental to the construction of about 9.26 miles of the Ashfork-Seligman highway. Beginning at the Crookton Overpass and extending southeasterly, and is to be completed by October 31, 1940. Federal Aid Project 57 (2) (1940) Α. F. E. 6619. P. F. Glendenning, resident engineer.W. E. Orr, Contractor, has a contract for grading and draining the roadway; the construction of 8 concrete box culverts less than 20 feet, clear span, and other work incidental to the construction of 5 and % miles of the Flagstaff-Lake Mary highway beginning at the junction of the Flagstaff-Lake Mary and the Flagstaff-Jerome highway, and extending toward Lake Mary. Construction to be completed by September 15, 1940. F. A. S. Project 7-A. (1) (1939). A. F. E. 645. C. S. Benson, resident engineer.

Pearson & Dickerson Contractors, Inc., have a contract for grading and draining the roadway; furnishing and placing select material, aggregate base course, plant mixed bituminous surface (using SC-6 road oil) and an emulsified asphaltic seal coat; and salvaging, crushing and relaying old oil mix and penetrating with SC-2 road oil. The contract includes the widening of one concrete deck bridge and other miscellaneous work incidental to the reconstruction of approximately 6.0 miles of a total of 10.6 miles of the Prescott-Phoenix highway, beginning about 24.5 miles southwest of Prescott. This is to be completed by November 30, 1940.

Since statehood it has been the constant endeavor of the citizens of the state to have the best roads possible. Visitors from other states are always surprised that Arizona, with limited population, has roads comparable to any in the U. S.

Federal Aid Project 72-A (5) 1940. A. F. E. 8908. J. A. Quigley, resident engineer. Lee Moor Contracting Co., has a contract for the furnishing and placing of aggregate base course and the furnishing and placing of a mixed bituminous surface, using SC-6 road oil plant mix, and other miscellaneous work incidental to the paving of approximately 6.4 miles of the Prescott-Flagstaff highway, beginning at the north rim of Oak Creek Canyon and extending toward Flagstaff. This is to be completed by November 15, 1940. Federal Aid Project 96-G (3) 1940 and 96-H (1) 1940. A. F. E. 7901. C. S. Benson, resident engineer.

State Forces are paving with Portland cement concrete, U. S. Highway 66, Flagstaff Streets. WPA participating. A. F. E. 6625. C. S. Benson, resident engineer. State Forces are backsloping and improving U. S. Highway 79 in the vicinity of Mingus Mountain. WPA participating. A. F. E. 1405. J. A. Quigley, resident, engineer. R. C. Perkins, Resident Engineer Tiffany Construction Co., has a contract for the furnishing and placing of aggregate base course, and a plant mixed bituminous surface on 10 miles of the Showlow-Springerville Highway, beginning about 16½ miles east of Showlow and extending toward Springerville. The work is to be completed by December 15, 1940. F. A. project 10-S Β (2) (1941) A. F. E. 6010. E. H. West, resident engineer. Bids have been called for 2:00 P. M. September 12, 1940 for furnishing and placing coarse and fine aggregate base course, and a plant mixed bituminous surface on 18.3 miles of the Showlow-Holbrook Highway, beginning at Showlow and extending to Snowflake. The work is to be completed by February 15, 1941. F. A. projects 136 A & B (21) (1941) and non-F. A. 136. A. F. E. 7711, 7712, 7713. Lewis Brothers, Contractors have a contract for grading the roadway, furnishing and placing imported borrow, select material, and a plant mixed bituminous surface using SC-6 road oil; salvaging and relaying the old oil mix on the shoulders; furnishing and applying a Type B seal coat over the full width of roadway, on approximately 5.8 miles of the Mesa-Superior highway, beginning about 6.5 miles southeast of Apache Junction and extending toward Superior; also furnishing and applying a Class A emulsified asphalt flush coat over 4 miles of the same highway, extending from the southeast limit of the plant mix pavement above to Florence Junction. The project is to be completed by September 30, 1940. NonFederal Aid Project 7-A (1940) A. F. E. 8034. R. D. Canfield, resident engineer. Daley Corporation of San Diego, Calif., has a contract for the construction of an underpass on the Mesa-Casa Grande Ruins highway. It is located on South Mesa boulevard in the city of Mesa. The underpass consists of a four-lane divided highway structure and will eliminate the crossing of six tracks of the Southern Pacific railroad. The work to be done by the contractor consists of the relocation of the irrigation system; the construction of the underpass and adjacent highway structures, which allows the passing of vehicular traffic parallel to the railroad tracks and over the underpass structure; and the paving of the roadway with Portland cement concrete. The changes in the public utilities necessitated by the construction of the underpass will be done by the utility company involved. The financing of the project is principally from Federal Aid grade crossing elimination funds with the city of Mesa providing the right of way. The project is known as the Mesa-Casa Grande Ruins highway, F. A. G. M. 97-G (21) (on) (Unit 2) (1939-40) A. F. E. 8757. Construction must be completed by April 15, 1941. Jas. A. Parker, resident engineer. Martin Construction Co. has a contract for the construction of a steel deck girder bridge over the Gila River about 14 mile north of Safford and for grading and draining of the approaches to the bridge on the SaffordBryce highway. This is to be completed by April 15, 1941. Federal Aid Secondary Project 12-A. (1) (1939-40-41) A. F. E. 646. R. C. Bond, resident engineer. State forces are constructing a line change on State Route 65, Winslow-Pine highway, consisting of grading, draining, surfacing and fencing, beginning at Coconino National Forest Boundary, and extending north toward Winslow. WPA participating. A. F. E. 6501. F. N. Berg, resident engineer. State forces are paving with concrete U. S. Highway 70, Superior Streets. WPA participating, A. F. E. 7007. R. D. Canfield, resident engineer.

DISTRICT NO. 2

As long as stone and bronze can resist the elements, travelers to Boulder Dam will see there the monument to that great American, whose name was given to that body of water held by Boulder Dam-Lake Mead.

State forces are resetting highway guard, U. S. 60. WPA participating. A. F. E. 6012. С. В. Browning, resident engineer.

State forces are widening and improving State Route 88 approximately 15 miles west of the junction of U. S. 60-70. WPA participating. A. F. E. 8802. R. D. Canfield, resident engineer.

State forces are changing alignment and construction curve west of Buckeye on U. S. 80-WPA participating. A. F. E. 8009. J. A. Parker, resident engineer.

State forces are changing alignment, widening and surfacing on U. S. 666, approximately eight miles north of the town of St. Johns. WPA participating. A. F. Е. 6667. E. N. West, resident engineer.

State Forces are widening with oil and constructing concrete curbs, gutters and sidewalks on State Route Washington Boulevard, 32d St., to Delano Ave. WPA participating. A. F. E. 8018. Jas. A. Parker, resident engineer.

DISTRICT NO. 3

J. R. Van Horn, District Engineer Bids have been called for 2:00 P. M. September 13, 1940 for grading and draining the roadway; furnishing and placing base material and a plant mixed bituminous surface; constructing 14 small structures (concrete or pipe) and one structure over 20 feet clear span on 7.1 miles of the Benson-Steins Pass Highway, beginning 9½ miles east of Benson and extending toward Willcox. The work is to be completed by August 15, 1941. F. A. 137-B (1) (1940-41) A. F. E. 8616.

White & Miller Contractors, Inc., of Tucson, Arizona, have a contract for grading and draining the roadway; furnishing and placing base course and a road mixed bituminous surface, using SC-4 road oil, and an SC-4 road oil seal coat; and the construction of one seven-continuous span reinforced concrete bridge with one intermediate hinge and other miscellaneous work incidental to the construction of approximately 614 miles of the Tucson-Tanque-Verde highway. The work begins about 8 miles east of Tucson and extends easterly. The work is to be completed by December 31, 1940. D. J. Lyons, resident engineer. F. A. S. 8-A (1) (1940) A. F. E. 651.

Phoenix Tempe Stone Co., has a contract for grading and draining the roadway; furnishing and placing imported borrow; imported borrow base course and a plant mixed bituminous surface using SC-6 road oil, furnishing and applying a type B seal coat and bituminous surface treating the shoulders with SC-2 and SC-6 road oil. The construction of one multiple 10'x8' box culvert, a 5-25 foot continuous span, reinforced concrete bridge and 4 small concrete box culverts and other miscellaneous work incidental to the construction of 8.6 miles of the Benson-Stein's Pass highway beginning about 1 mile east of Benson and extending northeasterly. The construction is to be completed by September 30, 1940. Federal Aid Project 137-A (1) 1940. A. F. E. 8616. D. J. Lyons, resident engineer.

State forces are grading, draining, surfacing and fencing State Route 82, Nogales-Patagonia highway, WPA participating. A. F. E. 8223. S. R. Dysart, resident engineer.

State forces are grading, draining and surfacing 13.5 miles of U. S. Highway 80, Florence-Tucson highway, Oracle Junction north, WPA participating. A. F. E. 8019. D. J. Lyons, resident engineer.

State forces are widening and surfacing shoulders, and filling borrow pits on the Bisbee-Douglas highways, U. S. Route 80, between Forest Ranch and Douglas. A.F.E. 8007. A. J. Gilbert, resident engineer.

FEDERAL WORKS AGENCY PUBLIC ROADS ADMINISTRATION New Post Office Building Phoenix, Arizona September 1, 1940 G. L. McLane, Senior Highway Engineer.

W. R. F. Wallace, Highway Engineer.

W. P. Wesch, Highway Bridge Engineer, Bridge Engineer.

W. J. Ward, Associate Highway Engineer, Locating Engineer.

R. Thirion, Associate Highway Engineer, Highway Planning Engineer.

J. H. Brannan, Associate Highway Engineer, Supervising Engineer.

E. F. Strickler, Associate Highway Engineer, Supervising Engineer.

R. M. Rutledge, Assistant Highway Engineer, Supervising Engineer.

E. V. Aldrich, Assistant Highway Engineer, Materials Engineer.

PUBLIC ROADS ADMINISTRATION PROJECTS IN ARIZONA PROJECTS UNDER CONSTRUCTIONRoute 17, Snowflake-Pinetop Highway, Sitgreaves National Forest George W. Orr, El Paso, Texas, has a contract for grading and draining a portion of Section B of Arizona Forest Highway Route 17, Snowflake-Pinetop. The project, totaling 9.774 miles in length, begins one mile south east of Pinetop and extends northwesterly to Showlow. A 3.175 mile portion of the route in the vicinity of Lakeside constructed under a previous contract is an exception to the project. Work was started March 25 and is about 99% complete. C. H. Clark, resident engineer.

Route 33, Catalina Mountain Highway, Coronado National Forest Project consists of grading and draining of a highway with prison labor on the south side of the Catalina Mountains, between a point approximately 17 miles northeast of Tucson, Arizona, and Soldier Camp Ranger Station near the summit. Grading has been partially completed from the foot of the mountain to a point 10.4 miles towards the summit. W. J. Ward, resident engineer.

Jacob Lake-North Rim Approach to Grand Canyon National Park W. W. Clyde & Company, Springville, Utah, has a contract for placing base course and bituminous treated surfacing on the Jacob Lake-North Rim Approach Road to Grand Canyon National Park; a portion of Grand Canyon Route 3, the Bright Angel Point-Cape Royal Highway; a portion of Grand Canyon Route 4, the Bright Angel Spring-North Entrance Highway; and the North Rim Headquarters Service Roads. Project is 34.489 miles in length. Project is about 86% complete. C. R. Brashears, resident engineer.

BIDS RECEIVEDRoute 3, Flagstaff-Clints Well, Coconino National Forest Bids were opened on August 27, 1940 for grading and constructing drainage structures on Section H of the Flagstaff-Clints Well National Forest Highway. Project begins at a point near the north end of Mormon Lake and extends 3.629 miles northerly toward Flagstaff. Tanner Construction Company was low bidder in the amount of $63,552.20.

Travelers along the byways of our state find a country well worth the trouble of the trip. The Mogollon Rim always proves a delightful surprise to the adventuresome visitor.

and Sincerely to You

Masiaca (Scorpion's mountain) that is what it means in the Mayo tongue, is situated 45 kilometers South of Navajoa, and is bordering with the State of Sinaloa.

Masiaca has a 95% Mayo Indian population, who in an average of 1% know how to read. Governor Roman Yocupicio built a very nice school building for those Indians of whom he once formed part, but they don't pay any attention to it, they prefer to continue their primitive life, and in consequence pay little or no attention to civilization.

Masiaca's fiesteros (or fiesta men) celebrate several church fiestas through the year, being the most important, that devoted to San Miguel Arcanjel, and said fiesta takes place the 29th of September, a three day celebration, with native dances, in which they dance the Deer dance and that of the Conquest Dance. It pays to see them doing all of the numbers of their vast program. A lot of money is spent in fire works, candles and ornaments. People (Indians) come from the surrounding villages to pray and to light candles to the Saint, and during the fiesta the Saint is taken out of the church in a procession. Many Indians pay more attention to drinking Mezcal instead of being praying as 100% of the population is inclined to drinking.

Not very far from the town of Masiaca, lies the village called Tea-chive (lots of rocks place, in their tongue) populated by Indians exclusively. All of them are industrious, some are Rope makers, others make Morrales (Ixtle bags to carry groceries) and many other things made out of Ixtle or Henequen. The women like to make blankets, which in some 75% go to the U. S. These blankets are made of pure cotton dyied with natural dyies that they prepare with primitive shrubs.

The only amusement of the male Indians is to drink, the female like to smoke heavily.

Every Sunday morning a procession takes place in front of the 150 years old church. Places in interest; The church, see the Indians at their houses making blankets; hunting deers, which abound in this Section.

Gasoline, oil: Jesús G. Rodriguez. English Spoken: Ditto. Canned foods and general groceries: La Tienda Nueva, J. G. Rodriguez. Masiaca, Son.

The road condition during the rainy season is generally bad but during the dry Season it is fair for travelling. Going to El Fuerte Valley you have to pass through Masiaca. I would like to receive a Copy of your paper.

Jesús G. Rodriguez, "La Tienda Nueva," Masiaca, Sonora.

Thanks to Señor Rodriguez of Masiaca, Sonora, for his intimate sketch of Masiaca and environs. Arizona Highways sadly realizes the inadequacy of its essay on Sonora, contained herein. We have only touched a few of the highspots of a great, colorful region, neglected many of the fascinating places off the "beaten path."

Many issues of Arizona Highways could be devoted to Sonora, and still the composite would be incomplete. Apologies to proud Sonorans for the wealth of interesting material omitted from our Sonora essay. Our only hope is that what we have presented will suggest the way to American travelers southward this winter, where a new world of travel delight awaits the visitor.

And if any of our readers following the trails southward come across charming Masiaca and the Indian towns "bordering with the state of Sinaloa" drop in to La Tienda Nueva (the new store) and extend our greetings to Señor Rodriguez. "Viva Sonora!" "Viva Masiaca!" "Viva all the little towns dozing in the bright sunlight down south in Sonora!"

SEPTEMBER HIGHLIGHTS:

The September number of Arizona Highways is full of memories for me. I don't believe that I have ever seen in any magazine, and in one issue so much that was of personal interest to me. Highlights were Miller's sketch of J. Ross Browne. The picture of the Apache crucified is authentic. When I was with the Pimas in 1930, I made the acquaintance of an old woman called Sun Leaves. She told me the story of the crucifixion of this Apache (who had a white mule) on the southeast side of Gila or Twin Buttes.

The second is the story of Davey and Corky Jones. I arrived at Wupatki one winter day in 1933 to work as an archaeologist. Jim Brewer (at present at Navajo National Monument) and Ten Brock Williamson (now with SCS in Salt Lake) were living in what is now called "Davey Jones' Desert Locker." In those days the door of the place was level with the surface (excavations later took the surface of trash or midden down). Brewer and Williamson invited me to bunk with them, but after one look, I decided to move down into the camp. After Jimmy married Sallie Pierce, they renovated the place and made it livable and I used to stop there many times as I have since Davey and Corky moved in.

Richard Van Valkenburgh, Fort Defiance, Arizona.

Thank you for reviewing J. Ross Browne's "Adventures in the Apache Country." Don't you wish you had a copy of this old book? Well, we are trying to form a society to subscribe to pre-publication of reprints of Arizona's early books. Please have another reviewed soon. Perhaps Martha Summerhayes's "Vanished Arizona" or Ernestine Hooker's "When Geronimo Rode" or John C. Cremony's "Life Among the Apaches."

Clara T. Woody, Globe, Arizona.

Our good friend, Mrs. Woody, has made a grand suggestion. Many old books on Arizona will be reviewed on these pages in future issues. Joseph Miller's review of Browne's book in September issue was well received by readers.

AT A CONVENTION:

Having enjoyed the Highway magazine for several years and being so proud of it when we send it on to people in other states, I was doubly proud when I attended our General Federation Convention meeting in Milwaukee to have a great many people ask about Arizona. Then at a luncheon one day a lady said, "Arizona! Oh that is where we get that delightful Highway magazine from," another from Chicago spoke up and said "Yes, we too enjoy that magazine, my husband says it is by far the best one that we get."

Mrs. B. L. Murphy, President Arizona Federation of Women's Clubs, Globe, Arizona.

Thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Murphy of Globe, Arizona Highways has made many friends outside the state.

The September issue of Arizona Highways has just reached me here in Richmond. The motion picture-minded men's wordssensational, colossal, magnificent come to mind-none of these super-adjectives does justice.

It is a beautiful, wonderfully well gotten up magazine and it is proving a sensation in our office.

Mark Freeland, Columbia Pictures Corporation, New York, Ν. Υ.

Genial, able Mark Freeland, of Columbia's promotion staff, made many friends in Arizona for Columbia Pictures and the industry during his stay in Tucson as the picture "A "Arizona" was being made. Among his duties: selling "Arizona" to the nation. We hope we have helped.