THE MOGOLLON RIM

ARIZONA'S MIGHTY BACKBONE The Mogollon Rim PART 1...THE GREAT ESCARPMENT

A mystic skein cloaks the Mogollon Rim, and envelops all those who explore that wondrously conceived alchemy of bleak rock and enchanting wilderness. Its surging crags, tier upon tier of cliffs, and tangled aeries of rock and conifer climbing into the sky cast an entrancing, alluring spell over man. It is a wilderness rampart of ethereal beauty, carved majestically into unmatched proportions. That aerial balustrade beckons pointedly to the individualist-to the adventurer who has come to penetrate its magical promenades, to the man who is driven by an urge greater than himself to seek the unknown. Then, only then, do those looming tortes of multi-colored stone seemingly give way. When I stand upon its soaring overlooks almost two thousand feet above the endless mountains of Tonto Basin, the same mood overcomes me. Gripped by mysterious depths and distances, I am held captive in a field of magnetic, primitive nature. Only my eyes remain free to skip over range after range, to the horizon, where the purple purple shoulders of Four Peaks rise up, seventy miles to the south. The essence of this haunting reverie must go back to our remote history, to when man began to dimly perceive his surroundings as something more than just forest and cliff and that, perhaps, he was a tiny part of an infinite cosmos.What nostalgic delight it is for me to gaze into those tiny meadows far below, and to imagine, that there, long ago, the Apaches, secure in their rancherias, tilled beans, corn and squash. And, with a little added imagination, it's possible to go back even further into time, to when the Pueblo People constructed their mud apartments and cliff dwellings. The Mogollon Culture is represented, too, in the archaic remains of their pit houses, hollowed out from soil and bedrock. Both of these ancient clans lived in their respective communities scattered along the perimeter of the great rim. And, while the tribes did not seek immediate protection of the lofty cliffs for their shelters, the escarpment did, indeed, contribute to their welfare, as it does now to us. Not only does the lore of ancient Indians exist but I have discovered the pioneer spirit incontrovertibly lingers on in the remote places. The Rim Road itself is a twisting, graveled legacy to settler and cavalry tenacity. Initiated under the inspiration of Gen. George Crook, it was hewn out of the wilderness to connect Forts Verde and Apache and a few lesser outposts. With only minor changes much of Crook's road is still being used today.

Historical episodes associated with the Rim surpass in drama any western TV show. I have tramped the trails of ambush where the Graham-Tewksbury feud flamed and spread voraciously over the precipitous escarpment. Feats of military bravado are just as colorful. Crouched along a steep draw, I have, in fancy, brushed shoulders with blue-clad troopers and red-skinned warriors, where cavalry and Apaches fought in the last, large-scale, pitched battle in Arizona. In a myriad other nuances of the mighty Mogollon, man is offered merely for the seeking an intriguing, geological paradise, as well as a sampling of southwestern, prehistoric cultures. Trails and place names offer for the student a penetrating insight into Arizona's pioneer history. There are untold delights in the observation of nature's ecology and a host of plants and wild creatures for the naturalist to marvel upon. The Rim appears to be a solid, blue wall from afar, but on closer inspection it suddenly, unexpectedly changes into a kaleidoscope relief of serrated parapets. Indigo shadows, deep and mysterious, creep down from its crest and resolve into yawning clefts. Spectacular chasms appear in beige, pink and mauve rock. From an oblique angle, the edge of the Rim looks as though a huge, crooked machete has chopped across it, thus defining its rifts into their peculiar characterizations, for one may be a narrow defile filled with a wild jumble of rock while the next may be a spacious canyon floored in a series of serene meadows. All of the gorges have one thing in common. Exposed walls of horizontally layered, sedimentary rocks indicate a great upheaval took place, attesting to the dynamic discomforts of a young and vigorous earth millions of years ago.In the Paleozoic Age, from the Devonian to Permian Periods, great fluctuating seas inundated the land of the Rim. Later, in Triassic times, the lowlands became covered with luxuriant, bizarre growths of ferns, clubmosses, horsetails and conifers. Here lung fishes and amphibians lived, fought and died amid the waters and lush growth of verdant swamps. It was an age of dinosaurs and armored fish, where the cycle of life went on for perhaps twenty million years, until the land sank below sea level. Then the land began to rise. Ample evidence of these ancient life associations can be found in Northern Arizona's semi-desert. The Petrified Forest is an excellent example. To the north, but embraced within this same geological stratigraphy, uranium mines and recent gas and oil strikes, as well as coal beds, are evidences which have present-day economic overtones. All these resources are ancient remains of this once teeming world.

PART 11... GEOLOGY OF THE RIM

Climatic conditions changed radically as this once great block of sea bottom, encompassing portions of Southern Utah, Northern Arizona, the southwest corner of Colorado and the northwest corner of New Mexico, continued to rise. Sedimentary deposits, thousands of feet thick, now created a new plateau of immense proportions. Stratigraphically, it is portrayed through the erosive powers of the Colorado River. The Grand Canyon, which slices through this region, reveals the tale of deposition and upheaval for study.

But it is the southern margin of the great Plateau with which we are concerned. It is bounded by an area roughly forty to sixty miles wide, called by geologists the Mogollon Slope. Tilted upward to the south, the slope's southernmost manifestation is a raggedly torn and eroded fault, stretching for more than two-thirds of the way across Central Arizona. Sweeping from northwest to southeast, into New Mexico, it is more than 200 miles long.

This raw edge of rock, this cataclysmic, faulted, forested theater of cliffs we have come to know as the Mogollon Rim. It is Arizona's backbone, a scarp averaging more than 1500 feet in displacement.

But to keep referring to this entity of cliffs as just the edge of the Colorado Plateau or the Rim belies its geological complexity. It conveys little if any knowledge as to how this phenomena affects other portions of the state, particularly south-central Arizona, the major population center.

Indeed, just what is the Rim? Simply stated, the escarpment is of structural origin and exposes for examination a series of sedimentary plateau rocks which have been deposited upon one another more or less uniformly during the Paleozoic Age, more than 300 million years ago. The uptilted formations and scarp form a north-and-south divide of profound importance to Arizona. The aggregate depth of these combined stratas almost defies the imagination.

There is even evidence to support the fact that the Rim may have been several hundred feet higher than it is now, perhaps a couple of thousand. Gravel deposits in the drainage of the Little Colorado River Basin indicate erosion of other and more recent sediments, which apparently at one time capped much of the Mogollon Slope.

Except for the obvious displacement caused by the scarp, no physical bending of strata is visible, as in the case of many igneous rock layers, where such extreme stress has left visible indication of folding and faulting. Perhaps it would be difficult to locate anyway, because of the composition of the formations. Its comparative soft and brittle structure has left the face of the escarpment vulnerable to the elements. In fact, erosion has been such a prominent force that the Rim may have originally extended to the south as much as ten or more miles.

Since the formations are sedimentary in nature, there is little or no evidence of mineralization. The cliffs are mostly composed of coarsely fractured sandstones. Huge blocks jut into space. Defying gravity for a time, they finally break off, and crash downward in a succession of deafening reverberations. Limestones have weathered into unique spires and crags towards the Rim's crest. Resting upon one another in gargantuan layers, the formations merit considerable attention to those concerned with the geological sequence of sediment deposition, and the periods in which they were laid down.

But it must be pointed out that differences in depth and composition of the rock sequences grow extensive as the distance covered by each formation increases. Also, faulting, pinch-outs and toeing-in of other deposits, or other disturbances alter stratigraphic positions greatly.

Consequently, not all of these ancient plateau rocks are continually visible along the Rim, and we will only consider those that are readily discernible for this brief review. For example, the Martin Limestone (Devonian Period), a gray to red strata, one of the oldest of the plateau formations, can be found in road cuts between Payson and Pine and on Upper Tonto Creek, north of Kohl's Ranch. It is occasionally found eastward, though sequences of this formation are usually buried deeply.

In some areas, the Redwall Limestone (Mississippian Period) overlays the Martin Limestone. An aquifer, many of the Rim's largest springs issue from this formation. Visible in lower Oak Creek at stream level and along Fossil Creek, Redwall outcrops periodically along the Rim's base to east of Pine. Another limestone, the Naco (Pennsylvanian Period) positions itself over the Redwall in some localities. It is seen along Fossil Creek and on the East Verde, south of Pine. It crops out eastward under the Rim as well. Another aquifer, more springs originate from this formation.

Undoubtedly, the Plateau's most colorful member is the Supai Formation (Pennsylvanian to Permian Period). It is formed from red silt and mud deposited by streams on a floodplain. Plant remains and ripple marks are graphic evidences of its origin. Brilliant red, it forms many buttes and spires, probably making it one of the most conspicuous, surely the most photogenic of all the Rim's rocky components. Its striking, detached monoliths are particularly beautiful in the northern portion of the Verde Valley, Sycamore and Oak Creek Canyons.

Up Beaver Creek, the Supai shows for several miles. In West Clear Creek, it forms the canyon sides for eight or ten miles. While the thickness of this formation ranges from 1400 to 1600 feet in this area, the Supai's full depth is never revealed. North and east of Young, the Supai is exposed for more than 500 feet. It is also visible in the Fort Apache area.

The Coconino Sandstone (Permian Period) overlies the Supai, though in some portions of the Plateau there may be a transitional zone of more than a hundred feet between the two formations. It can be consistently found along the Rim, in fact, it may be considered the Rim's most prevalent rock from the standpoint of being readily seen.

Its thickness varies considerably, 500 to 650 feet of which has been measured in the Oak Creek district. North of Pine, its thickness is about 1,000 feet, then it pinches out eastward. North of Forestdale Canyon it is less than 300 feet thick.

Composed of rounded to partly rounded grains of quartz cemented by silica, the Coconino is white or very pale orange in coloration. Wedge-type crossbedding, a characteristic of its makeup, indicates that the Coconino was formed by wind-blown sand which piled into dunes. It is a permeable sandstone and, as such, contains water which mani-fests itself in springs. Overlying the Coconino, in the Sycamore and Oak Creek areas, lies the Toroweap Sandstone (Permian Period). Sloping layers sand-wiched between flat-lying beds mark the Toroweap, and indicate that this strata was deposited under water.

It forms vertical cliffs along the Rim in the northern part of the Verde Valley. Measuring 150 to 350 feet thick, it quite similar to the Coconino Sandstone, and in some places along the Mogollon Rim the two formations can scarcely be identified from one another. The Toroweap does not appear in the southern or eastern portion of the Rim.

Deposited on top of the Toroweap, or the Coconino, depending upon the location, is the Kaibab Limestone (Permian Period). Deposited beneath the ancient seas, the Kaibab contains fossils of sponges and sea shells. It might be considered one of the best exposed formations along the whole gamut of the Rim, for in many places it is directly under foot. This limestone is about 300 feet thick, though in some areas erosion has worn much of it away. Predominantly a pale orange, it does turn to yellow-gray or almost white. The formation is easily recognizable. It erodes into spectacular appearing pillars and pinnacles which may be readily examined at various points all the way from Sycamore, Oak Creek, Pine and eastward along the Rim Road.

While these formations constitute what might be considered the face of the Rim, it would be quite erroneous, indeed, to leave the impression that these layers of ancient sediment are the only ones found upon the Mogollon Slope.

North of the Rim, there is the Chinle formation, and the colorful Moenkopi formation, among many others. The latter is known for its multitudes of tinted sands. Its shaded rainbow of colors and pigments are vividly exposed in the Painted Desert lying near Petrified Forest. This one-time living forest, now a stony epitaph to the past, is found in the Chinle formation.

To define the exact outline of the Plateau in some portions of our state is extremely difficult. While tracing a southward course into Arizona from Utah, it is roughly bounded by the Grand Wash Cliffs north of Kingman. Then it turns eastward, but the edge of the Plateau is still not visible in the sense of a definite demarcation. The work of erosion has obliterated its contours. Other deposits have overlapped its perimeter.

We can, though, define the Rim at an intermediate point southeast of Seligman. While no huge chain of cliffs is visible, stairstep-like mesas do expose Plateau rocks where lava flows have eroded. These flows (Tertiary Period to Recent) which once poured from San Francisco and Bill Williams Mountains, cap much of the area. Erosion of the drainage basin formed by Big Chino also exposes the formations. But, as yet, the Rim has not grown into its grandiose appearance. As the land to the south of U. S. 66 begins to drop more sharply, the Rim becomes definite. The escarpinent begins to show up fairly well northeast of Drake. It continues in a southwesterly direction until torn by Sycamore Canyon. Now, wild and ragged, the Rim lays vividly exposed some twenty to thirty miles east of the Perkinsville Road, which is probably the best vantage point for viewing this northern segment. The escarpment twists and writhes southward until bisected by Oak Creek Canyon. Very similar to Sycamore in appearance, Oak Creek Canyon is probably one of the most inspirational areas of the Rim. Huge, templed buttes of red Supai rise vertically at the Canyon's mouth.

From Oak Creek, the Rim continues due south to where Beaver Creek knifes into another cover of basalt. Again, more spreading tongues of lava, which this time spewed from Mormon Mountain (Tertiary Period), have concealed the actual shelf. Very apparent from the vantage point of Mingus Mountain across the Verde Valley, the Rim's shoulder is indisputably there, but hidden by an enormous, bulging mantle of black basalt. The next drainage is West Clear Creek. It provides a hiker's delight, for its waters have shorn through the lava and have cut into the Supai's salmon-pink walls. To the south, Fossil Creek tumbles through a great chasm of eroded igneous rock. The road from Camp Verde to Pine switches back and forth over the brink and reveals a stupendous panorama of volcanism. In the creek bottom far below, outcrops of the Redwall and the Naco Limestones appear beneath a rubble of basalt boulders. Near the headwaters of Fossil, the Rim suddenly swings eastward, shaking itself free of its lava burden. Soaring into that formidable escarpment with which writers usually associate the Mogollon Rim, the edge of the Plateau presents a deterrent, awesome wall of rock. It slices a jagged swath through the forest north of Payson. Often called the Tonto Rim in this region, the escarpment comes into its most spectacular hour, its moment of highest splendor. Its variant ecologies are at their wildest. Its depths are at their greatest. Its cliffs are at their steepest. Its overlooks are at their highest.

From Pine to Young, the Rim's buttressed face is rarely less than a near vertical drop of 1200 feet. At many overlook points its height is close to 2000 feet above the mountains which stretch across Tonto Basin. Overall elevations at Baker's Butte, a tiny, isolated lava cap perched on the Great Crest, northeast of Pine, rise to 8077 feet. Promontory Butte tops 7915 feet. Both offer viewpoints seldom equalled in Arizona. In the space swept by the arc of the eye, a perimeter of more than 300 miles can be covered at a glance. South of Show Low the steep scarp is again blanketed by com paratively recent volcanism. Forming the White Mountains (Tertiary Period), the once molten blanket covers much evidence of the Plateau's edge as one travels on into New Mexico. Never more apparent than at Vista Point, more than 9300 feet high on the Coronado Trail (Arizona 666), just south of Hannagan Meadows, the panoply of lava flows lies before the traveler. Just to imagine this fiery, viscid rock slowly sliding over the Rim and forming the legions of mountains beneath takes one's breath away. The flows continue into New Mexico where the edge of the Plateau is lost under the Mogollon Mountains. Farther to the cast in that state, the edge of the Plateau turns northward and finally slips into Colorado.

PART III... ANCIENT CULTURES ALONG THE RIM

The Mogollon Mountains and the escarpment itself has lent its name to the ancient peoples who once occupied Southeast Arizona and Western New Mexico.

Grouped together, the Mogollon people exhibited a culture which was epitomized in the building of pit houses, and in some places ceremonial pits of religious significance.

While many sites in Arizona and New Mexico remain to be opened by archeologists, examples of this pit house culture have been found and excavated near Forestdale, right under the Rim. Mogollon Village, near Glenwood, and Harris Village, near Mimbres, are similar ruin sites lying in New Mexico.

More or less circular, the pit houses are dug into the ground from three to four feet deep. The houses have long-necked entrances. Apparently the roofs were constructed of poles thatched with brush.

In Forestdale Canyon, along U. S. 60, some of the pit houses were excavated four or more feet deep into bedrock of the Coconino Sandstone. While this sandstone is easly fractured, it must have been a Herculean task for those people to pry out with only wooden poles the blocks of stone which had to be removed. For that reason the floors are very rough, though some surfaces were dressed down. Hard rocks were used to knock off the high spots, and then smooth out the remainder. For a stone-age culture it was a complicated task.

An unbroken chain of human events spanning more than two years has been revealed in the Forestdale Valley, beginning about the third century A.D. and ending around 1400.

Much evidence has been found under layers of accumulated debris, and thus archaeologists have pieced together a fascinating picture of the Mogollon Culture. At least two phases have been identified, the Cottonwood and the Hilltop, at the Forestdale sites. It is thought the Hilltop phase represents the earliest evidence of human habitation.

As time wore on, these Indians adapted more features of the Anasazi of the north. It was about 500 A.D. when the latter peoples began to make their culture felt with the Mogollon group, and thus, the Forestdale. Valley ruins present an intriguing story, the amalgamation of two cultures.

While the Mogollon culture was flourishing in Eastern Arizona and in New Mexico, other Indians from Southern Arizona began settling in the Verde Valley against the western edge of the Rim.

These Indians lived in comparative prosperity with little strife. After 1100 A.D. another group of farming Indians entered the Valley from the north. These same people, the Anasazi, started constructing communal dwellings, pueblos as we know them. Ruins in the Verde Valley, Tuzigoot, for example, are evidences of their existence.

They also began to use cliff sites for their homes, usually located near their fields. Such was the beginning of Montezuma Castle, situated in Beaver Creek, where floodplains provided farmlands, and where there was ample water for irrigation.

For two centuries or so, both the Pueblo and the older culture grew crops along the tributaries of the Verde River under the Mogollon Rim, as well as the Verde River itself, without apparent conflict.

But then drought, dreadful and inescapable, struck in Northern Arizona. Fierce competition and war may have resulted over the tillable but limited lands. This prolonged condition caused the influx of more people from the north. But even the Verde Valley could not support the migration. It is assumed that the continuing drought and dwindling irrigation water prompted the Valley's populace to leave. By 1450 A.D. none were left. The resulting conflicts over water and meager farmlands seemed to have driven the Mogollon people away from the eastern end of the Rim as well.

When the Spanish explorer, Antonio Espejo, arrived in the Verde Valley, in 1853, he mentioned a hunting society of Indians. These were of Yuman stock, which had filled the vacuum left by the Pueblo Peoples. Living in thatched huts, these Indians were known to the pioneers as the Yavapai. The pueblos were in ruins. On the other hand, the Apaches sprang from Athapaskan stock. Migrating from Canada during the 1600's, they later divided into various tribes and spread over Southwestern New Mexico and Southern Arizona.

Where did the ancients go? It still remains an archaeological mystery, though both the Hopis and the Pimas have legends about strangers coming into their lands.

It was not the rainfall itself that made farming profitable for the early peoples of Tuzigoot and Montezuma Castle. It was the irrigation waters diverted from the streams that rose under the Mogollon Rim that made life tenable. This asset is provided by the high Plateau.

In like manner, Central Arizona is dependent upon the storm patterns which drive in from the Pacific and come up from the Gulf of Mexico. The clouds release their burden of moisture when they struggle to rise over this huge wall. The top of the Rim receives ten to twenty inches more rainfall a year than the base of the escarpment. All rain and snowpack meltwater north of the Rim flows into the Little Colorado, and all runoff below the backbone flows into the Verde, the Salt or the Gila Rivers.

In short, the Rim becomes a watershed. It not only forces runoff into two distinct basins, the Colorado and the Gila, but because of its peculiar topography and porous structure, it also recharges the groundwater of the Verde Valley, and the groundwater south of the Rim, all the way eastward into New Mexico. This groundwater reservoir is a direct result of percolation of rainfall through the various laminated, sedimentary rocks of the Colorado Plateau.

Abundant evidence lies in the multitudes of springs which well up under the Rim. Dozens of creeks Sycamore, Oak, Beaver, West Clear Creek, Fossil, Pine, Webber, East Verde, Tonto, Haigler, Cherry, Canyon, Cibecue, Corduroy Creek and many more pour into the drainage of the Verde, Salt and Gila Rivers.

It is these rivers that supply South-Central Arizona with waters for its vast irrigation system.

So, as a result, if it were not for the Mogollon Rim, Arizona's mighty backbone, Phoenix and Central Arizona would scarcely be the all-season garden spot and agricultural mecca that it is today.

THE MOGOLLON RIM Arizona's Mighty Backbone

MOGOLLON RIM/from page 5 PART IV... THE MILITARY HISTORY

Prehistoric people were not the only ones attracted by farming. In the long run, it was also the potential of irrigation that brought settlers and agriculture to stay in Arizona. And, with the advent of white men, we begin to get a thread of recorded history to follow along the Mogollon.

Coronado was the first European to see the Rim. He followed natural trails and passways through the mountains and struggled over the Rim somewhere south of the present town of McNary. It was a rugged journey. In the end, there was little reward for him and his retinue. Probably for this reason, scarcely any explorations followed, for he had failed to find the Seven Golden Cities.

Espejo and party followed Coronado forty-one years later, and was the next Spanish explorer to traverse the Rim. He was attracted by stories of mines which he heard about while visiting Acoma Pueblo (New Mexico). It was copper that the Indians were mining on the western side of the Verde Valley. Actually, they just pried out native copper without much digging, but tales of fabled mines had spread, and so Espejo elected to explore this distant valley.

To the Spaniards, mining meant only one thing, gold. And so, Espejo and his band bore over the Mogollon Slope, and tracked down through Jack's Canyon. They entered the Verde Valley somewhere south of Oak Creek, perhaps near Stoneman Lake. His disappointing reports of no precious metal curtailed further explorations by white men until the middle 1800's.

By 1600 New Mexico was being colonized quite rapidly along the Rio Grande but, as yet, the land to the west, later to become Arizona Territory, still remained virgin. A hundred years later, explorations had developed on a small scale to the west from Albuquerque, and south along the San Francisco River, as well as into the White Mountains. It was about this time that the Rim country and adjacent mountains in New Mexico became known as the Mogollones, named for Juan Ignacio Flores Mogollon, Spanish governor and captain general of New Mexico (a portion of New Spain). (Spanish pronunciation: MO-GOWN; popular pronunciation: MUGGY-OWN.) General Mogollon took office at the end of Marcos de la Penuela's rein for a term of five years. While Mogollon was commissioned in Madrid on September 27, 1707 and qualified on October 9, he didn't take official office. He had to be recommissioned on February 8, 1712 and was installed as reigning governor at Santa Fe October 5.

Mogollon served only until October, 1715. According to some historians, he became ill, and the deputy governor, Felix Martinez, took over the administration of the Spanish, New Mexico colony. Shortly after, Mogollon and his deputy quarreled over administration policies. Martinez succeeded in having Mogollon put under house arrest. Maleficence of office was the charge. This terminated his remaining two years of office. However, Mogollon didn't stay in Santa Fe.

Where did Mogollon go? Nobody seems to know. But it's a strange coincidence that Arizona's Rim, and the rugged mountains in Southwest New Mexico, shortly thereafter were associated with the name Mogollon. Apparently Mogollon escaped. It is probable that he may have disappeared into these mountains or fled into Arizona. Perhaps he went back to Mexico City. At any rate, the Spanish militia could not locate him for trial. He was tried in absentia in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and fined court costs and other monies, which his accusers said he misused.

Early maps of the region do not show the name Mogollon before 1715. Many later maps name and include a chain of mountains (the Rim) through Central Arizona, and adjacent mountains in New Mexico, the Sierra Mogollone. A few call the Rim The Black Mesa. These bits of history also serve to point out the fact that Arizona was closely associated with New Mexico. As a matter of fact, there was no official Arizona. Even after the Gadsden Purchase, in 1853, the New Mexico Territory included the perimeters of both Arizona and New Mexico. This relationship must be considered in under standing the early military history of the Rim, for actually, understanding the Rim is understanding Arizona.

The O'Sullivan photographs used with this article were taken during the CORPS OF ENGINEERS, U. S. ARMY Expedition of 1873 Lieut. George M. Wheeler, C. of E. commanding. Lieut. Wheeler's notes have become the basis of much historical data compiled of that time and era.

Wheeler mentions stopping at Cooley's Park. Corydon E. Cooley was a scout at Camp Apache in 1872. He married an Apache woman and established a ranch which was well known at the time, due to its location where the road forked one branch going to Horsehead Crossing, and on to Holbrook-the other toward what is now Springerville.

Sentiment had long been rising for the separation of Arizona from New Mexico, for civil affairs, if not for Indian problems alone. Settlers were quite disturbed over the elapsed time from an Indian raid to when punitive cavalry could be dispatched from one of the existing forts in New Mexico. Arizona needed protection, particularly through the southern and central portions of the state. The canyon barriers of the Rim had offered a haven for marauding Indians, and now it was thought that the same barriers might afford a controlling front from which to contain the Apache. First, it meant that Arizona must become a territory, and on February 23, 1863, this became a reality.

Lincoln appointed John A. Gurley as territorial governor. However, Gurley died en route. His successor became John M. Goodwin. They left Santa Fe on November 23, 1863. By mid-December they had passed through Albuquerque. But time was wasting. According to the law, the governor had to be sworn in before the coming of the next year, and it had to be done on Arizona soil. They crossed into Arizona on December 27, but there was still doubt in some of the men's minds that they were actually in the new territory. And, so they traveled two more days, to a little crossroads called Navajo Springs, situated on the Plateau, north of the Rim. There, December 29, 1863, John M. Goodwin took oath of office.

The major problem facing Arizona's new government was to provide adequate Indian protection. The Apaches were striking daily, since the Civil War had all but stopped effective Indian protection. The little military defense available at the time was largely due to the surveillance of the California Volunteers.

Needless to say, this was a job for the regular military, for Indian control demanded that a system of forts and military camps be built, though the California Volunteers had initiated several. It also meant that roads had to be hacked across the wilderness to connect these points.

While a great number of camps were established in Arizona, only three major installations are directly concerned with the Rim. Fort Apache was the vital post in the eastern part of the state. Six years after Goodwin took office, Maj. John Green cut a road into the Coyotero Apache Country (White Mountains). In the spring of that year, May roth, he established Camp Ord at the road's end, named in honor of Gen. O. C. Ord, commander of Arizona. Subjugated Apaches, who were living under the jurisdiction of the fort, received their first beef rations in July.

On August 1, 1870, the name of the post was changed from Ord to Mogollon. Undoubtedly, the builders could not forget the fearful hardship of pushing the road over the Rim Country. But the name was short lived. In September it was changed to Camp Thomas, after Maj. Gen. George W. Thomas, the "Rock of Chickamauga" of Civil War fame.

After Cochise's visit of several weeks, in the summer of 1870, the name was changed to Camp Apache, to honor this great Apache chief. Later, it became known as Fort Apache. It ceased to be part of the military in 1924. Taking on a new role, it became the Theodore Roosevelt Boarding School of the Fort Apache Indian Reservation.

About twenty miles to the east of Fort Apache, a supply camp was thrown up, then relocated on a stream near White River. This was called Camp Rucker. It was abandoned in 1880. These two camps held the anchor position at the east end of the Mogollon Rim.

The next camp to the west was Camp O'Connel, located west of Spring Creek, near Young. A way-stop camp, it was not used to hold any military objectives. It is possible that Soldier Mountain and Soldier Creek are place-name clues indicating its former site.

Farther west, probably near the present settlement of Childs, Camp Igles was established and named after Col. Guido Igles. Located on the Verde, it existed for only a year. Precise dating is unknown, probably early 1870's.

South of Seligman, on Walnut Creek, another post was built in 1869, christened Camp Hualapai. Expeditions originated from here for Indian patrol in Chino Valley, the Upper Verde, Sycamore Canyon and Oak Creek Canyon. Most of these patrols were concerned with flushing out the Yavapais from their hideaways at the base of the escarpment. Knowing every canyon and outcrop, the Indians bad a habit of melting into the recesses of the Rim after every raid. The post was turned over to the Department of the Interior on July 31, 1872.

Near the upper reaches of Fossil Creek, Camp Lewis was built, probably in 1865, and named after Col. Charles H. Lewis of the 7th Infantry of the California Volunteers. A number of campaigns against the Apaches started from this well-positioned fort, since it lay along a natural passway from the Verde Valley, leading into the Tonte Basin area over Strawberry Mountain.

The second major camp to the west was begun as Camp Clark. It was established in Chino Valley at Del Rio Springs, and named for Surveyor Gen. John A. Clark. While located in an admirable area for water, it was not close enough to building materials, for lumber had to be hauled by mules for twenty-four miles. On May 18, 1864, Camp Clark was moved to Granite Creek, a mile northeast of Prescott, the territorial capital, and rechristened Fort Whipple, named for Lt. Amiel W. Whipple. Lt. Whipple had led an exploratory reconnais sance across Northern Arizona in 1864. He was fatally wounded in the Battle of Chancellorsville.

Camp conditions were not good, and desertions became common place by 1867. In 1869 many of the buildings were condemned and rebuilt. Building material and other military supplies were freighted by mule teams and wagons from La Paz, located on the Colorado River, via Wickenburg and then to Fort Whipple.

Some of the freight was later brought from Fort Defiance to the Beale Trail, and then over the Chavez Road, via Stoneman Lake, Fort Verde, and finally to Fort Whipple. From 1872 to 1880, a succession of disastrous fires almost demolished the fort. The result was constant rebuilding, but it led to a more comfortable camp. Completely rebuilt by February 15, 1904, the new quarters lasted until it was abandoned in 1913 as a military post. It is now a veteran's hospital.

The Verde Valley was the site of the third major camp. First called Camp Lincoln, it was built along the bottomland, but later moved to a more healthful location overlooking the Verde. After the move it became known as Fort Verde. The post lies west of the Rim, where the escarpment turns northward towards Oak Creek. This was one of the most important outposts in Central Arizona, being on a direct wagon road communication with Fort Apache over the Crook Rim Road.

Fort Verde was plagued with Indian troubles almost from its inception. In October, 1871, 1000 Yavapais came to the post to sue for peace. Finally an agreement was reached whereby the Indians received a reservation forty miles long and twenty miles wide along the Verde, north of the post. When Gen. Crook took control of the reservation, more than 500 of the Yavapais became alarmed and fled to the protection of the nearby mountains and Mogollon Rim. The Indians undoubtedly associated Crook's title of general with that of General Stoneman. Stoneman had been exceedingly harsh with the Indians and was replaced in 1871 by General Crook.

The Yavapais went on a raiding rampage over the countryside. Records state that when Indian Agent Williams arrived in July, 1872, only a handful of Indians were living upon their allotted area. When Capt. C. C. Carr became commander, he tactfully persuaded many of the Yavapais to come back, but meanwhile an unfortunate accident occurred when a Tonto Apache was killed at the fort.

But living was getting harder for the Indians away from the reservations, for many of them realized that to raid would only bring the cavalry upon them. So during the late summer of 1872 many returned to their reservation. In April, 1873, more Yavapais came back, and Gen. Crook concluded a peace treaty. They soon began to make the reservation productive, But negating influences from Tucson demanded that the Indians be moved to the less desirable San Carlos Reservation. In February, 1875, they made a mournful exodus over the Rim to San Carlos. The upshot of this exceedingly unfair move undoubtedly nurtured a new rebellion, as we shall see.

During 1879 and 1880 Fort Verde was under the command of Capt. H. C. Egbert, and in this tenure a number of expeditions were made to Oak Creek, Tonto Basin and Indian Gardens under the Rim. Taps blew for Fort Verde on April 10, 1890. Now, each summer the town of Camp Verde presents Fort Verde Days as a reminder of Fort Verde's once colorful history.

PART V... MILITARY TRAILS AND THE CROOK ROAD

As can be imagined, these military posts were only as effective as their connecting network of trails was effective. And in this respect the cavalry usually found themselves doing double duty. Wielding picks or shovels with as much vigor as shooting their carbines, these men had to become adept pioneers. For when it came to roads who else was there to build the vitally needed roads?

So it is in any wilderness society. The role of transportation is one that we, living in an era of multicommunication links, often overlook. There were no alternatives. Either a network of trails had to be cut across Arizona's mighty backbone or the country had to be forfeited by default. Such was Gen. Crook's conclusion.

Tall in the saddle and tall in common sense, bewhiskered, roughly clothed, and topped with a practical pith helmet, his unmilitary-like bearing was unique. He left Tucson on July 11, 1871, and passed through Fort Howie and Fort Apache in his first survey of Arizona. He led troops across the Mogollon Rim to Fort Verde and opened up an east-to-west route. At times, even his guides were hesitant to trail across the wilderness of the Mogollon.

On April 24, they left Fort Apache in a cavalcade, including two ambulances, two army wagons, six cavalrymen and a guide. After five grueling days, including the soaking of all their personal belongings during a perilous ford over the Little Colorado, they began to ascend the Mogollon Slope. They continued southwest over broad expanses of grassland. They filed through Chavez Pass. Now, the welcome forest lay before them and afforded more temperate weather.

"Toward sunset of the next day, which was May Day, our cavalcade reached Stoneman's Lake. We had had another rough march, and had reached the limit of endurance, or thought we had, when we emerged from a mountain pass and drew rein upon the high green mesa overlooking Stoneman's Lake, a beautiful blue sheet of water lying there way below us.

"It was good to see tired eyes, which had gazed upon nothing but burnt rocks and alkali plains for so many days. Our camp was beautiful beyond description, and lay near the edge of the mesa, whence we could look down upon the lovely lake. It was a complete surprise to us, as points of Even after the wagon trails had been blazed and hacked out of the forest, travel was often curtailed across them because of Indian harassment, particularly over the Rim Road. Ambush was always a possibility. Even for the military itself, a more northern route to Fort Verde, including a ford over the Little Colorado at Sunset Crossing, was necessary when Indian pressure demanded more defensive travel.

These were long and strenuous hauls for the wagoners and grueling for the dependents and families of the cavalry officers when they were transferred from one camp to another. Such an observation was made by Martha Suumerhayes, wife of Lt. John W. Summerhayes, in her engaging book, Vanished Arizona. It is a classic example of army post life on the Arizona frontier.

They were stationed at Fort Apache in 1875. Later in that year, the lieutenant was assigned to a company at Fort McDowell. The journey they took from Fort Apache to Fort McDowell is a memorable account. Mrs. Summerhayes wrote: "I heard them say that we were not to cross the Mogollon Range, but were to go to the north of it, ford the Colorado Chiquito (Little Colorado) at Sunset Crossing, and so on to Fort Verde and Whipple Barracks by the Stoneman's Lake Road."

scenery were not much known or talked about then in Arizona. Ponds and lakes were unheard of. They did not seem to exist in that dreary land of arid wastes. We never heard of water except that of the Colorado or the Gila, or the tanks and basins and irrigation ditcher of the settlers. But here was a real Italian lake, a lake as blue as the sky above us. We feasted our eyes and our very soul on it. Stoneman's Lake remains a joy in memory, and far and away the most beautiful spot I ever sare in Arizona.

Mrs. Summerhayes could hardly have described Stoneman Lake any better, for it reflects in brilliant azures, and is lined with pines, juniper and caks. Sunken into the earth 200 to 300 feet below the surrounding lava beds, the lake rests upon the Kaibah lanestone. Some thirty-five miles northeast from Camp Verde, Stoneman Lake was an important stop between Forts Whipple and Verde, and Forts Apache and Defiance, to the east.

Retracing the old trail from Fort Verde to Fort Apache, the Stoneman Lake Road led eastward over ancient laksbed sediments, skirted Rattlesnake Canyon and ground up tortuous Blue Grade. The teamster's pace on this precipitous road so frightened Mrs. Summerhayes

"High Country Symphony - Below the Mogollon Rim"

Notes with the old photograph state: In this country are groves of fine oak timber, pine forests and well-watered glades . . . the lower spurs of these mountains are covered with bunch and grama grasses, and decked with blossoms of goldenrod and aster emblematic of the mild temperatures. These conditions of beauty and fertility effectually prove that Arizona in its entirety is not the worthless desert that, by many, it is supposed to be.

T. H. O'SULLIVAN, PHOTOGRAPHER / U. S. WAR DEPARTMENT COLLECTION That she admonished him. His comment, "Had to, Mam, or we'd all gone over," vividly indicates how those army wagon drivers had to "read" the road.

Then the trail overlooked Stoneman Lake, and finally struggled over the Rim. Threading its way through groves of ponderosa, the road continued east for about ten miles, then it branched.

One trail jolted eastward. This was the Chavez Road, named for Col. J. Francisco Chavez, who first cut the trail. He also commanded the military escort of Arizona's gubernatorial party in 1863. Going south of Hutch Mountain, it wandered by Soldier Lake, an intermittent lake governed by erratic rainfall.

Swinging southeast again, through Chavez Pass, the track then bore in almost a straight line through Jack's Canyon and Sunset Pass. Near Sunset Crossing, on the Little Colorado, the Chavez Road connected with the Beale Trail. Blazed for immigrant wagon travel in 1857-58, the Beale Road spanned Northern Arizona from Fort Mohave (Kingman) to Fort Defiance and Albuquerque, New Mexico. Lt. Edward Beale imported camels for this survey. Present-day U. S. 66 uses approximately the same alignment. The Fort Apache road forked near Holbrook and went south to the post.

The other branch of the Stoneman Lake Road wound in a southward direction, through a succession of draws to Clint's Well. Then it crossed Clear Creek at Jones' Crossing. If Clear Creek was running too high and could not be forded, an alternate route had to be taken. Plunging through several canyons, it emerged at Baker's Lake on the edge of the Rim.

The Crook Trail, a more direct road, went south form Fort Verde. At West Clear Creek, it turned east and climbed the lavacovered shoulder of the Rim. Often called the Rim Road, it became the leading military link between the two posts, as the 1873 offensive against the Apache gained headway.

The Clear Creek segment, now a primitive trail, is called by the Forest Service the Mud Tanks Road. The old track wound up Devil's Windpipe Canyon and passed under Thirteen Mile Rock. Cresting the Rim, Crook's Trail meandered southward, touching Twenty-seven Mile and Twenty-nine Mile Lakes.

The next stop was Baker's Lake, possibly at that time Lake No. 1. The cavalry often called the tiny Rim lakes No. 1, 2 and so on, as they passed them going eastward to Fort Apache. This also accounts for the calling of Thirteen Mile Rock (thirteen miles from Fort Verde, etc.) and Twenty-seven Mile Lake (twenty-seven miles form Fort Verde, etc.).

Later, ranchers and cowboys renamed the lakes and the numbered buttes after their own families and happenstances. At Baker's Lake, the Crook Road joined the trail, which had branched off of the Stone-man Lake Road. Skirting the Rim, the Crook Trail offered spectacular views of the Tonto Basin Country, though I imagine that little thought was given to scenic beauty when the Apaches might be waiting in ambush beyond the next ridge. Departing eastward from the junction of Baker's Lake, the road has changed very little from the time Gen. Crook's men built it. Wider in spots, it still follows sharp contours and indentations of the Rim. In roller coaster fashion it tumbles down the head of a canyon and then quickly leaps up, skirting the very edge of the escarpment. A solid forest on the north side, and practically a sheer drop of 1500 feet on the south, it continues in breathtaking defiance of the depths.

Fascinating place names flood the trail. Just under the Rim, between Camp Verde and Pine, lies Strawberry Valley, now a nook of summer homes. One of the last territorial schools still standing in Arizona remains there. Clint's Well snuggles in a draw a few miles to the north. It is named after Clint Wingfield. An old military grave marker rests adjacent to the Rim Road at Baker's Butte. Farther on, there is General Springs, where Gen. Crook had a narrow escape from the Apaches during his 1871 survey of Arizona forts.

Barbershop Canyon received its name during the 1880's from a sheep shearing crew. One of the outfit's members served as a barber for all of the herders, as well as the sheep. In like manner, Cracker Box Canyon took its name from the cracker boxes, which had been hauled up by burros for the sheep camps. Vail Lake, a tiny pond nestling in a magical meadow scene, became an ideal lambing location during the 1880's.

From here, the route threads through mingled stands of aspen and ponderosa. In the higher elevations, solid groves of spruce and fir Hank its course. Southwest of Heber, the old military road becomes a primitive track again, striking off through a maze of logging trails.

A marker calls it the Verde Trail, but it is not passable for long with regular vehicles. Many sections of it are incorporated within fire control lanes that wend through the forest. Descending in altitude, the track approaches Fort Apache, where oaks, ash, juniper and occasional maples are commonplace.

The Crook Road passes north of Forestdale Canyon. U.S. 60 apparently crosses the old route a little to the south of Show Low. Somewhere near the old Cooley Ranch, it merges with the present paved highway, which leads to Fort Apache.

Currently the U. S. Department of Public Roads is surveying for a new road, slated to be called the Zane Grey Highway. It will connect Camp Verde with the eastern part of the state. But with all due respect to this author, really my first motivator for Arizona life, I would still like to see the name kept as the Crook Trail. Somehow, the road still belongs to those yellow-kerchiefed troops and that sidewhiskered gent.

Continued on page 29

MOGOLLON RIM PART VI...PIONEER VIGNETTES

Stories told by oldtimers of their days on the Mogollon are endless. So many are worth repeating for their humor and pathos that one is hard put to make a selection of tales, and so I offer only a tidbit here to tantalize research instincts of the student historian.

Sycamore Canyon provides the background for many yarns. One of the more intriguing stories, or perhaps I should say legends, concerns Moes Casner. It is said that he made so much money on his cattle years ago, that he hid much of his wealth in dutch ovens, which he then buried. Supposedly the floor of Sycamore Canyon is dotted with these treasures. While many people have looked for them, none have ever been discovered.

To verify these old Sycamore Canyon tales, I dropped in at the Perkins Ranch, near the mouth of the canyon. Most of the old yarns they told me have been embroidered to the point that the truth has long since vanished. Actually, the senior Mr. Perkins said to me, "While there were many wild but hard-working cowboys in the early days, people were a mite sight more honest then than they are now." He could remember only one instance when the Rim spawned violence. In this affair it was a steely-eyed renegade from Canada. A crippling deformity caused him to wear one boot facing forward, and the other boot facing backwards. Peg-leg Pete, they called him. For several years he made a nefarious living by relieving cowboy line shacks of grub and rustling a calf or two at opportune moments. Finally, he was caught in the act and shot on the spot.

Camp Verde has a tale of its own about a gun battle that took place in front of the old Wingfield store on July 2, 1899. Clint Wingfield and partner Mack Rogers were shot by Black Jack Ketchum. As notorious a desperado as they came in Arizona, he outgalloped the posse by fleeing over the Rim. Ketchum was finally captured during another holdup in New Mexico and hanged in 1901.

Topping the Rim, one comes upon a huge, island-like peninsula of the Plateau, which overlooks the little town of Pine. Called Milk Ranch Point on the maps, it once was the scene of a bustling dairy which furnished milk to railroad construction workers, according to Arizona Place Names. A cursory point here is that there are now no railroads within a hundred miles wherein lies a tale all in itself.

In 1883 Eastern financiers, Col. Eddy, Payson Tucker, Wood S. Eaton, general freight agent of the Maine Central Railroad, Green B. Raum, a former commissioner of internal revenue, Sen. John A. Logan of Illinois, and Gov. Robie of Maine, formed a company to build the Mineral Belt Railroad from Flagstaff to Globe. The monumental engineering task, of course, was a way to conquer the Rim.

Switchbacks or tunneling were the alternatives. Finally, a tunnel was decided upon. By September, 1883, according to reports in the Globe newspaper, Arizona Silver Belt, the base of the Rim, along their survey line, had been faced off, and the tunnel shaft drilled into the Rim seventy feet. The length of the main tunnel was to be 3100 feet. Another article in the Belt, on August 18, 1883, stated: "The formation through which the tunnel will pass is a white and yellow sandstone, and consequently will be easily driven, and competent authority places the cost of the removal of the rock at $2.50 per cubic yard. Thus, it will be seen that allowing 16 feet as the average size of the tunnel there would be only 10 cubic yards of rock to remove to the running foot of tunnel, making the cost of same per foot, $25."

Undoubtedly, this sandstone was the Coconino, as yet unidentified geologically in the Rim.

The next three years financial difficulties trailed the railroad. In 1887 a new spurt of activity renewed interest, but it soon expired. The holdings were sold to Riordan and Hinckly on December 4, 1888 for $44,000, which consisted mainly of roadbed, and track laid from Flagstaff southward to Fulton Springs, a distance of almost forty miles. Later, Southwest Forest Industries used the old road as a logging carrier. Only recently has it been abandoned. Semitrailers now pound back and forth from the logging camps to the mill at Flagstaff. The remains of this ambitious project are the office cabin and tunnel mouth, both nearly covered with brush and forest growth.

Only a half dozen more twists of the Crook Trail takes one to Battleground Ridge, a mile or so west of General Springs. On July 17, 1882, the last big Indian battle in Arizona took place here, the Battle of Big Dry Wash. For some time there had been dissatisfaction among the Coyotero Apaches and those who had been removed to San Carlos. That they had grievances is now generally admitted, concerning governmental bungling and red tape. The ill-fated exodus from the old Camp Verde Reservation still rankled.

Finally, stirred up to fever pitch by one of their medicine men, Nok-e-da-klinne, the first outbreak of trouble resulted in the Battle of Cibecue. A year later, a new and more violent attack occurred which was led by their war chief Na-ti-o-tish. They rose up, killing several of the military at San Carlos Reservation, including J. L. Colvig "Cibecue Charlie," chief of scouts, and seven of his men. Turning from the Gila country, they rode west and attacked the little mining settlement of McMillanville, now a ghost town, located adjacent to U. S. 60 about fifteen miles north of Globe. Fortunately, the miners The Indians laid a trap for the cavalry, and positioned themselves along a point of ground overlooking the confluence of Big Dry Wash and Clear Creek. The maneuver would have worked had there not been so many soldiers. Thinking that only a company or two would follow, the Apaches lay in wait. Such was the situation when Al Sieber's scouts found the hostiles.

The scouts reported back to Capt. A. R. Chaffee, who then split up his forces and surrounded the Indians in a pincers movement. A bitter, pitched battle shaped up, and lasted more than four hours. Na-tio-tish and thirteen warriors were killed. The cavalry lost two men.

Lt. Thomas Cruse won the Congressional Medal of Honor for his part in the action. A marker now rests along the Rim Road and points to the battleground. Another monument stands upon the very site, and includes, upon a bronze plaque, all the personnel involved in the engagement. Some of the old stone breastworks thrown up by Indians can still be seen.

This battle ended the real Indian threat, although there were still some individual incidents up until 1890. But for the most part the Rim became quiet in respect to Apache war whoops, Other wars just as bloody soon developed. Though I expect the passage of time somewhat dims the bitter hatred of the Indian for the white man, yet the red man can be pardoned on the grounds that, for, after all, he was fighting for his ancestral home, his livelihood, his way of life. On the other hand, the sanguine story to follow seems senseless indeed. But it was the way of the Old West, the way of the Mogollon. As such it creates an aura of those times. It will probably live forever in American folklore.

and the few families fortified themselves in the Stonewall Jackson Mine shaft and its tunnels. A young man by the name of Ross was wounded. The Indians looted and burned, but no one was killed.

Heading their ponies northward, they stormed the Middleton Ranch under the Rim in Pleasant Valley. They struck at the Tewksbury Ranch too, but were surprised by immediate gunfire, and driven off. In several skirmishes the Indians killed at least six more ranchers, including Bob Sigsbee and Louie Houdon, who operated a horse remuda on upper Tonto Creek. A couple other prospectors may have been killed as well. By now 'the townspeople of Globe had organized the Globe Rangers, but they were quickly outmaneuvered by the Apaches.

Of course, the military had not been idle. A muster of six troops of cavalry, including 195 officers and men, set out from Forts McDowell, Whipple, Thomas and Apache. Rendezvousing at Rye Orgek, south of Payson, they pursued the Indians, who now had crossed the Rim, having gone over its brink east of Milk Ranch Point.

Leaving Battleground Ridge, and traveling eastward along the Crook Trail to the Colcord Mountain turnoff, one comes upon a little weatherbeaten sign indicating Young, twenty-six miles. Situated in Pleasant Valley, no prettier ranches can be found under the escarpment.

But from 1886 to 1890 there took place in this valley one of the West's bloodiest feuds, usually called the Graham-Tewksbury War. Some thirty people are known to have been killed or are missing in this affair. Allegedly, it started over sheep, which were driven up over the Rim by the Tewksburys into cattle country. But from research I have uncovered this seems just the spark that was needed to ignite the issue, for the trouble between the families began long before there was any thought of sheep.

Al and Ed Rose were among the first settlers in Pleasant Valley, arriving in 1877. They started a ranch under their name. The Tewks-burys came in with their cattle from California in 1879. The Grahams arrived three years later from California. Originally from Iowa, they were often referred to as Canadians. At first these families got along well, but then they began to develop personal animosities.

Finally 45's and Winchesters broke a tense silence. The most bizarre incident in a feud filled with unbelievable acts occurred on September 3, 1887, when the Graham faction surrounded the Tewksburys, and shot two Tewksbury participants in front of their cabin. During that whole hot September day, the Grahams kept the cabin pinned down under fire. Finally, some hogs began rooting at the bodies, and the resolute Tewksbury women went to the rescue, burying their men under the feuding guns. By evening the sheriff's deputies arrived from Payson and the Grahams withdrew.

Later, a related incident took place on the Rim. Three men were hanged by mistake just because they looked suspicious. Unfortunately, a young rancher named Jim Stott had made a mistake when he bought horses with splotched brands. But he was an Easterner, comparatively new in the West. He could have been forgiven for this. Or perhaps he was just taking a chance.

At any rate, one morning a group of horsemen, led by a sheriff's deputy with questionable motives, surreptitiously arrested Stott and two other men, Jim Scott and Billy Wilson, whose only crime was to stay a few nights with the young rancher. Then, true to the Old West, while the sheriff and his prisoners were riding the trail to the county seat, they were in turn bushwhacked by another group of riders. Stott and his companions were hauled off and hanged. No charges were ever filed. Later, ranchers guardedly said the deputy had engineered the whole scheme to get title to Storr's land. Stott, Scott and Wilson lie buried in the upper reaches of Black Canyon close to the Rim.

Another dramatic moment occurred at a hearing on August 27, 1892, at Tempe. The young widow of the last Graham pulled a gun from her scarf and tried to shoot John Rhodes, one of the Tewksbury followers, in the Tempe courtroom. Stories differ, but somehow or another the hammer of the gun did not fall because it was caught in the cloth. The young widow's husband had been ambushed, allegedly by Ed Tewksbury and John Rhodes, near the Double Buttes school-house, close to the present freeway between Tempe and Phoenix.

During the summers, a rancher by the name of Hannagan trailed his cattle through the Mogollon Mountains, over Gut Ache Mesa and up along San Francisco River. Cresting the Rim, he pastured his stock in a series of idyllic mountain parks. Now called Hannagan Meadows, they lie southwest of Alpine, Arizona.

The W. S. Ranch in the Mogollon region near Alma, New Mexico, provided a rest camp for some of Butch Cassidy's Wild Bunch. Actually the owner, Capt. W. French, retained these men as cowboys without knowing that they were outlaws.

The Wild Bunch left their mark in Arizona, too, for there is a tributary of the Blue, south of Alpine, called Wild Bunch Canyon.

One of the gang members, Elza Lay, (some historians say he went by the name of Wm. McGinnis) returned to the community of Mogollon after being discharged from New Mexico's Folsom Prison on January 10, 1906. He may have taken part in the train robbery in Grants, New Mexico, on October 8, 1897, where it is said $100,000 in cash was hijacked by the Black Jack Ketchum gang.

Oldtimers say Lay lived in Alma on a satchel of money he kept hidden in the back of the old general store. After a number of years he left for Colorado. He died in 1932 in Southern California.

To go into more pioneer adventures would make a book in itself, but these few incidents serve to show what kind of character the Rim country forged, for does not the physical attributes of a country mold to some extent the mettle of the people? The wild, rugged escarpment created a society of self reliance and independence. Only the strong-willed could survive along the Rim's rock-strewn reaches.

PART VII... ECONOMY OF THE RIM

By 1900 the West had taken on new dimensions. Gone were the wering Indians, and gone also were the range wars. Armons's gold bonanzas had faded out, too, but on the Bin a new bonanza was being exploited.

This was the giant ponderose tree. Those stately baked columns covered thousands upon thousands of square acres, forming upon the Rim the largest unbroken stand of yellow pine timber in the West, more than nineteen suillion acres, a fourth of Arizona's land wen.

The net result has been a multimillion dollar industry for Arbons. Old records indicate that in 1869 lumber was being produced on a volume, commercial basis. Dinamsiosa and sheathing tombes production in that yaur exocoded 1,200,000 board feet. This is less than one day's production in 1967.

Most of today's logs are harvested from the higher altitudes, from six to ten thousand feet. Practically all of Arizona's annual timber harvest goes into lumber and construction timber for there is no other wood quite like the versatile ponderose. It is a multipurpose building material. Its texture is nail-able and its wood is soft, providing for unique workability. There is scarcely any other wood which is used to such an extent in sawmillwork.

One of the greatest innovations in the lumbering industry was the recent construction of the pulp and newsprint mill near Snowflake. This semi-automated plant has the capacity of more than 350 tons of kraft paper, as well as one or more tons of newsprint per day.

The use of small ponderosa logs for pulp is a result of a technological breakthrough. Up to the time of this special process, ponderosa wasn't regarded as prime pulp wood because of its high resin content. At full production, more than 200 workers are employed at the Snowflake plant. Another 900 men are utilized as sawyers and in allied, skilled labor in the forest.

The Rim also offers sandstone stratas profitable for quarry. The stone in demand, of course, is the Coconino, one of the finest building sandstones available. It is shipped throughout the United States. One of the largest concerns quarrying this stone is the Western State Stone Company, whose locations lie northeast of Drake.

In Oak Creek, the climate and use protection of the Canyon make possible the growing of fruit. Oak Creek apples are known throughout the West. Apple varieties are Red Delicious, Golden Delicious, Jona than, Winesap and Grimes Golden. It isn't uncommon to get twenty to thirty field run boxes of apples per tree, which means about $150 gross per tree. Peaches are grown as well.

But in the final analysis the economy of the Rim must be examined in light of the U. S. Forest Service's administration of the multiple-use program. Thus, the Mogollon Rim is not preserved for the sole purpose for the growing of timber, but provides for a continuing diversified, grazing for livestock and for the facilities needed in the mushrooming recreation field.

While the Rim's indirect value as a watershed cannot be over emphasized, the need for recreation will grow, I feel, to the point that it may exceed all other economic benefits.

Thousands of people spend much of their leisure the to the mountainous, forested lands of Arizona. The Rim, of course, demands its proportionate share. The Arizona Game and Fish Department has some interesting figures in which they say that $39,600,000 is spent in Arizona for the purpose of fishing. And, while this includes the lower lakes as well as the Colorado River, the amount spent on the high county and the Rim runs well into the millions. The department also mentions that the average cold water fisherman spends more than eight man-days a year fishing. During his time he probably has spent about 840 per day. The proportion of money and days spent is almost as high for the hunters.

As can be seen, millions are spent in Arizona on recreational needs, from boats to thermos bottles, from campers to fishing lies, not to mention licenses of every sort. This is big business, and in the future it will certainly get bigger and bigger.

Woods Canyon Lake, near Payson, probably attracts more people than any other body of water on the Rim. And, while fishermen by the hundreds make their Walton-minded begin to its trout promising waters, thousands more find in other streams and canyons a therapeutic value by just escaping out under the pine and fir of the Mogollon.

I'll never forget the first night I escaped on the Rim many years ago with an old college friend. Great branches of ponderosa hung high overhead. Interlacing into an applique of needlework, the sylvan crochet of centuries hung delicately above the moon and starlit sky. Gently, the filigree swayed and sighed where the incessant breezes blew over the Rim.

What was a place of fare, I somehow misread, drew me to the Rim, and held me to its unchallengeable grip? Somehow or other it beckoned. I had been there before, on that lip of oblivion, under those glam pines, rolled in that sleeping bag.

Childhood memories raced through my head, following one another in an avalanche-like confusion. Suddenly coming to mind, poignant stories of wild creatures that lived in the uncharted vastness of Arizona's Rim flashed by. Legendary herdsmen, and heroes of the Old West, galloped over forested trails. The Indians rampaged behind my eyes and fled from the wrath of the invader to disappear into the strongholds of rock and cliff, I was one of Zane Gray's most avid fans, for his tales, Under the Tonto Rim, To the Last Man, and Rim Fire, kindled my love for Arizona long before I ever left my home in the East. How I longed Such was our experience. The rain soon stopped, leaving an ethereal wreath of scudding fog. Clouds seemingly fought for buoyancy, trapped by the huge wall. In a short time, the moon appeared. I walked on the brink of the escarpment. A luminous, bottomless panorama lay before me. Reflective rocks, descending in a grotesque incline, were accented by moonlight. It was an eerie sight.

To the east, the clouds hung in a frothy canopy along the Rim. It appeared to be a dessert topping, a heavenly glazed, moon-bathed meringue, deftly ruffled by the artistry of a gigantic hand. I looked skyward, almost believing that I might behold a mighty arm.

I stayed no much longer than my permer, and shall never be sozzy I did so, for below me, not more than fifty yards awey, I saw a feline figure, mote a silhouette than s body, mors a spirit than an sutky. I would never have noticed it sxcept for some sixth sense that compelled we to examine the nearby rock.

The wind, of course, was blowing up the face of the scarpmata, so the creature did not sanse roe. The lion set there in all its vaajasty. It seemed that all the cats bous during centuries past had willed some subrie chersereristic to this creature. Sublimely, it epitomized all the felines I had ever seen. Stretching at last, it leapt to another rampart of rock. Again the Host sat thure, and surveyed all of Tomo Basin, with eyes raach taore attuned to night than wins. Again the Agure moved,

PART VIII... THE RIM AND I

to see the brightness of the spars and the clear skion of the Arizons mountsias. And then, le later years, when I finally did get to know this territory in zetualky, it even exceeded my expectations. All these memozies asshed through my head as I lay in my bedrell on the edge of the Rim st Lee Jobeson Spring.

The following day, we meandered slong the Crook Trail to Myrsie Point. The void i lay lay only only a stoes's throw away from camp, where a vignetted screen of pine, fir and oak separated us from the abyss.

Later in the evening, one of those sudden, violent storms built up as only they do along the Rim. Lightning constantly shredded the sky. When it struck below the Rim, booming booms of crashing thunder rolled along the periphery of sandstone cliffs. Reverberations were so deafening that one could scarcely think. Then echoing crescendoes would return, lower in pitch, but seemingly more ominous, more sinister.

Combining forces, the rain and the wind pounded against the tent in slanting lashes. The supple boughs bent and the aspens, more limber yet, heeled over, almost level with the ground. Surely the tent would have to have let it down. We crouched in its dark, collapsed interior awaiting a more clement reign of elements.

Even the storms seem to acquire a hue of the Rim's character, for the high escarpment fosters a land of extremes. It never seems to snow but what it becomes a blizzard, never blows but what it becomes a tornado, never rains but what it becomes a deluge. By the same token, the weather is so changeable that a complete turn about may occur within minutes.

Now would be a better word, this time upward, ledge over ledge. Then its sleek, rhythmic movement paralleled the Rim, only thirty to forty feet below me. Noiselessly, it melted away. I never moved a muscle, and the lion, secure in solitude, slipped into the night.

Since then, the Rim has become my stage and theater for photographing wildlife. According to old accounts the Rim country abounded in game. Espejo reports that flocks of parrots were found to the Verde Valley, indeed, his retinue called the site, The Valley of the Parrots. Even Mrs. Summerhayes recalls humorously experiences she had with numerous bobcats. According to Bourke, in On the Border With Crook, four bears were killed in a single day while the troops rode from Fort Bowie to Fort Apache. These facts indicate that life forms abounded before the advent of white men.

The low point in the Rim's wildlife population occurred when the original Merriam's Elk (wapiti) became extinct. Resplendent in superlative headgear, this magnificent animal was native to the Southwest, but by the turn of the century all had been killed.

The Elk's lodge of Winslow initiated a transplanting program is 1913. Eighty-six head of Rocky Mountain, or Roomvsk, nik were transported bears Gardiner, Montana. They were released at Cabin Daw on the Mogolion Slope (see AsrzOMA HIGHWAYO, Jте губа, "Titi of the Mogollon").