CULTIVATORS OF THE SOIL

The ACP and the individual Navajo farmer partnership will help the land yield a bounty to match its beauty.

Because they were starving, the government provided them with 30,000 sheep and 4,000 goats. The Navajos began again, with nothing but their flocks, their freedom, their will to survive, and their human dignity.

Now, a century after The Long Walk, the Navajo Reservation is more than five times larger than it was in 1868. But even 24,000 square miles is not enough land to support a bursting population. From 10,000, the tribe has grown to more than 110,000. More than half the population is under seventeen years of age. The land can only support a fraction of the people who want to live the traditional life in their homeland. The life of Lords of the Soil... Cultivators of Fields.

The more the flocks multiplied, the poorer quality the animals became. Herds of scrawny, rough-wooled sheep browsed widely to exist the best they could. By 1920, the range was badly depleted from overgrazing and subsequent soil erosion. The government was forced to reduce the numbers of livestock. This was a new government, awakening to the needs of all the people, sorry for its past mistakes, trying to find answers for the future. The sudden reduction in livestock was a blow to families whose only source of income had been their flocks. Each person was restricted to three hundred and fifty sheep units. A horse or cow was counted as five sheep units. Ever since Fort Sumner, the number of sheep per family has grown smaller. A subsistence herd for a family of five would necessarily have at least two hundred and fifty sheep. In 1957, only 2.3 percent of the population had herds that big. Men of the family had to go off the reservation to earn wages to supplement income.

Too many unused prestige horses grazed the land. Old ewes, wethers, and unmerchantables were seldom culled from the flocks. Inbreeding had lowered the quality of the herds. Hardy but useless shrubs spread over the range. Mesquite, jack pine, snakeweed, blue sage, creosote, cactus, rabbitbrush, broomweed, and juniper choked out the natural grasses. A shortage of water had resulted in poor distribution of livestock. Some of the people resented the reduction in livestock, which meant near-starvation for their families. Some of them realized their desperate need for help with range management, livestock production and soil conservation. Three steps would be necessary in the future: finding off-reservation employment to supplement family income; educating young people to new skills and trades; improving and developing the existing land.

For hundreds of years, the people had relied on dry farming and alluvial planting in canyons and along washes. After Fort Sumner, the Navajos practiced three methods of irrigation: interception of floodwaters, diking of flats to catch the spring floods, and ditch irrigation. Now great dams on the Colorado and San Juan Rivers provide storage water for irrigation. In 1950 the tribe appropriated nine million dollars for a Long Range Act. Over a ten-year period, about 6,000 acres of new farmland were placed under irrigation along the San Juan. The Navajo Irrigation Project will one day put more than 110,000 acres under cultivation.

The ACP is not concerned with the development of new land, but with two basic problems: conservation of soil and water and better management of crops and livestock. Farm produce is still primarily for subsistence of families rather than commerce and trade. Most farming plots consist of one-half to ten acres. The average per capita income is $521.00 per year. Families eat what they can grow. Over 490,000 sheep and goats, 22,800 cattle, and 20,000 horses graze on the 24,000 square miles of Navajoland. The agricultural progress of the Navajos in soil and water conservation, since the dark days of the twenties, is due to the continual cooperation of the ACP.

Willie Shirley is a Navajo stockman whose ranch is on the rim of the deep gash in the earth known as Canyon del Muerto. Twenty-five years ago, Mr. Shirley talked with Cal Taylor, farmer fieldman for the state ASCS office. Mr. Taylor grew up in Apache County, where his father had been a stockman on the Navajo Reservation. He knows the country and its people. With Cal Taylor's advice, Mr. Shirley formed a partnership with the ACP. He began to put a stockman's dream into operation. Someday he would have a ranch with adequate water, good grass, and fat cattle.

Their first big problem was fencing, the necessary beginning for good range management. Thirteen miles of boundary fence was built to eliminate the trespassing of stray cattle. At first the neighbors were angry and tore down the fences. Fences are alien to the old way of life which teaches that a man must share his goods and property with his friends and clansmen. Only Mr. Shirley realized that, without fences, some day nothing would be left for his children and grandchildren. The land sacred to the gods would be worthless to The People. Erosion in Navajoland has created some of the most spectacular scenery in the world: The Little Colorado River Gorge, Monument Valley,

Canyon de Chelly, the Painted Desert. But 150,000 acre-feet of silt from the Navajo Reservation alone is deposited in Lake Mead behind Hoover Dam every year. The productivity of the soil had become desperately poor.

The next project of the ACP and Willie Shirley was to clear 3,800 acres of juniper, jack pine, and blue sage by using steel cables pulled by tractors. Thirteen hundred acres were then burned. An airplane reseeded the area, using six and a half pounds of wheatgrass per acre. A thick stand of wheatgrass replaced the worthless shrubs in a few years.

Then Willie Shirley began to place his tanks and watering places. Three livestock tanks were built, and recently a butyl rubber catchment was constructed in an area where the building of an earthen tank or a well was unfeasible. Now, whiteface cattle replace the scrawny sheep which once foraged on the poor land. Willie Shirley's dream has been realized with the help of the ACP.

Since 1958, ACP and the Navajos have built more than 150 miles of fence protecting more than 300,000 acres of soil. Over the past thirty years, about 3,000 livestock ponds and wells have been built. More are needed. Stream banks are being stabilized and protected from the silty, cutting rush of spring floodwaters.

For stream bank protection, spider jetties are anchored along the eroded banks. The jetties slow the floodwaters so they drop their silt load in the jetties. In one to three years, Russian olives, honey locusts, golden willows and cottonwoods are planted in the silt deposits, strengthening the stream bank.

Spreader dikes have been constructed to slow rush of water in arroyos and rivers, and spread it over more ground. Much of this ground is good silt, which can be planted and farmed.

Almost all of Navajoland needs one or more of the types of treatment available through ACP funds. They include fencing, brush control and reseeding, reforestation and better management of the 600,000 acres of commercial forestlands, livestock tanks and wells, reservoirs for irrigation and recreation, stream bank protection, and spreader dikes. The future is one of hard work, patience, and endurance in living with the environment. Once, the Navajos adjusted to conditions they could not control. Now, they are learning to control and change their environment. For centuries, the Navajos have lived a seminomadic life, moving constantly to find better grass and water for their flocks. Today they are able to build more permanent dwellings, whether they are modern houses or the traditional hogans. Most families manage to have a subsistence income, supplementing their agricultural income with wages. But the population expands. Even with new conservation methods, the land can only support a fraction of the people who want to live on it. The traditional life is for the few who are still Lords of the Soil. Their way of life, their values and traditions will remain strong because they are brave and real things. The lines of sun, wind, and hardship are on the faces of the country people. The strength of endurance is in their limbs. But the stoic eyes, the passive eyes, born of centuries of acceptance, have a new light: the light of hope, of the promise of a strong future. Of being a part of a country whose government, the people, says at last, "We'll all pitch in and help you if you are willing to help yourself."

Cultivators of the Fields . . . Lords of the Soil . . . The People. For hundreds of years they have faced the challenge of change. Always, they took from other cultures what they needed and rejected what they did not want. Now, surrounded by a modern, fast-moving, traditionbreaking world, they remain individualistic, dignified, and creative. The humiliation of The Long Walk is fading into the light of achievement.

A recent oratorical contest was won by Miss Carol Bitsui, of St. Michael's Mission. The pride and defiance of the Navajo people facing a new world was reflected in her words: "The modern age has taken over, but that doesn't mean that I am going to sit back in a rocking chair and watch my great tradition go down the drain. Instead, I will fight for it all.

"I will not let a non-Navajo degrade my people. I will not kick aside a woman, a man, nor a youth whose breath smells like liquor. I will not laugh at an old Navajo who is not dressed decently. Instead, I will extend my hand to them to live the way God wants them to live.

"As life goes on for me, I will stand as a proud Navajo. My language I shall not leave behind. My tradition and culture, I shall cherish. My chants and songs will ring in my ears as I walk the road of my life."

Stock water ponds, wells and tank facilities mean better livestock and grassland distribution and management.

MOGOLLON RIM / from page 33

Now the Arizona Game and Fish Department controls all restocking of wildlife in Arizona. While the Rim cannot boast of a profusion of game, it can and does provide an astonishing variety of wildlife. In fact, with exception of the bighorn, all of Arizona's big ten can be found along its ramparts, from Seligman to New Mexico, and northward across the Mogollon Slope.

Bobcat, coyote, beaver, ringtail cat, skunk, Abert squirrel, spruce squirrel, porcupine and a dozen or more species of voles, mice, rats and ground squirrels select conditions and habitat to suit their unique requirements. At the lower altitudes, peccaries roam in bands as they used to. Deer, both mule and whitetail, move up and down the Rim's ladder of life zones with little thought of height or cliff. Pronghorn antelope glide over the mesas that lead up to the forested Rim.

In Miller Canyon and in Clear Creek Canyon (to be differentiated tiated from West Clear Creek) and on Milk Ranch Point, I have filmed the black bear. A wary fellow, no more than 2000 are left.

Subscribing to a philosophy of woodland laissez-faire, the bear strictly keeps to himself. Methodically and secretively, he goes about his daily chores, keeping to a schedule of which only he is conscious.

In the sylvan glades of Gentry Ridge and Potato Lake, I have made many photographs of the magnificent elk. I once stalked a Titan crowned royal bull (seven or more points on each antler) at Vail Lake, but could never get a picture of him, though on several occasions I heard him bugle. No doubt one of the wildlife's most stirring declarations, the French-horn-like notes filter through the forest in a flood of passion. Nothing I know of can compare to the longing, the wistful, implied pledge, the musical pitched entreaty. The bugling of the bull elk is a woodland sound supreme.

The birds are just as picturesque, with the golden eagle topping the list. Nesting upon these inaccessible crags, the eagle is in one of his last strongholds in Arizona. What an inspiring sight it is to see him sailing, banking, circling for altitude upon the multitude of wind currents that constantly flow over the Rim.

Wild turkeys, clever, clumsy, cunning fowl, always alert to the slightest movement, are masters at deceit. Melting into a canopy of brush and saplings, it is impossible to trail them. Running swiftly, or freezing still, they seemingly lead untouchable lives. In the springtime, the gobblers are a delight to hear. Sounding their impatient, staccato calls, they strive valiantly to keep their flock together.

In the meadows, the robin in his merry but dramatic search for worms and insects represents the very industriousness which many of us might emulate. Chickadees, nuthatches, hepatic tanagers, western bluebirds, humming birds, evening grossbeaks and many more can be found eating seeds and feeding their young.

The meadows themselves are botanical gardens. In the spring one cannot walk more than a step or two without crushing delicate strawberry plants or wild violets. Iris creep along the meadow bottoms. Mint spreads its pungent odor along the creek banks. Gooseberries and wild grapes grow in seclusion in the lower canyons. Blue lupine perch upon the canyon sides, though I have found pink and red varieties growing in the haunts of Miller and Gentry Canyons. Of special delight are the stately columbines, ranging in shades from yellow to red to blue. I once found a crimson columbine growing between rocks of the Indian breastworks heaped together at the Battle of Big Dry Wash.

In the higher canyons, ferns grow prolifically. Old man's beard lichens hang from the trees like festoons of Spanish moss. These upper canyons harbor plant associations which just about form the closest thing to a rain forest ecology that one might expect to find in Arizona.

In late summer, flowers accent the meadows, and everywhere multitudes of fungi mingle among the debris of rotting logs.

The Rim is a rhapsody of color in the fall. Golden-leaved aspens and red maples abound, creating crimson crests upon the waves of yellow. Leonard, Miller, Crackerbox, and Bear Canyons, as well as Sycamore and Oak Creek, have their share of this vermillion display. The snapping air, the frost and snow-encrusted grasses; dipping over little creeks and springs, create an exhilarating panoply of nature's subtle extravangances.The attractions, these many moods of the Mogollon, will they succumb to commercialism?

The term recreation, with its twentieth-century connotation, has garish implications. I see overcrowded boat docks, overcrowded fishing streams, and overcrowded campsites.

The answer lies in deployment of small camping areas and a reappraisal of our objectives for various types of outdoor recreation, rather than tent cities, which many of our parks and forests are now subjected to. Yellowstone is a good case in point, for there may come a time, indeed it is already here, when its huge camping areas must perforce be closed down in order to let nature's ecology refurbish those civilian-burnished scars.

Can recreation in this context be compatible with discovering the exhilarating forest smells after an afternoon shower, the finding of wild strawberries amid jeweled droplets of dew on an early morning, the song of birds in silvered intonations bidding the break of day, the dancing eyes of my eight-year-old son as they skip in cadence to the erratic darting of a chipmunk?

Without the added embellishment of man's invention, to me this is the Mogollon Rim the mighty backbone of Arizona.

ADVENTURE

Adventure beckons from seven seas, From the Papagos to the Pyrenees, From the Panamint to the nether Pole, Forever luring the restless soul.

There are thunder-circled peaks to scale, There are coral-ringed lagoons to sail, And native marts and strange bazaars, And snowy trails under alien stars.

Adventure calls but a man may learn It need not lead where horizons burn. Challenge and Joy need not be far. Adventure beckons where you are.

CAT-HEAVEN

There surely is a Paradise For cats, where stars are catnip mice; Where foamy clouds are cream to lap, Blue sky, a pillow for a nap; Merry Sun to spark a dance, Moon-alleys dark for cat-romance, With lightning-trees to sharpen claws, And velvet snow for velvet paws.

A million angel-pussies purr When soft auroras stroke their fur, And angel-kittens full of play Go tumbling down the Milky Way.

THE LEAF

One leaf fell from a sycamore tree Into a sheltered bay. Silt washed over, grain by grain, To harden into clay.

Where now we trace the sycamore leaf Whose every vein appears, Freshly etched, though later by Fifty million years.

MOUNTAIN SONG

I stood in awe at timber line And gazed at one grey, twisted pine. Defiant, dwarfed, it reigned alone And asked no mercy. Hard as stone To which it clung, it bore the storm Wind's biting lash and I felt warm Warmed by its strength. I scarcely knew I breathed; my heart, beguiled, clung to Those branches and a part of me Still clings to that lone, windswept tree.

A PRAYER

Father, help my life to be Deeply rooted, like a tree, Which, beset by wind and rain, Bent to earth, shall rise again.

Like a quiet crystal pool, Far within whose depths lie cool Visions from the world above, Let my life reflect Thy love.

Patient stars, unhurried, still, Climb each night up heaven's hill; Unheard harmonies they bring. Teach me their song; let my life sing.

yours sincerely A PLAQUE FOR RAINBOW BRIDGE:

Art and good intentions should get their dues. Before it is too late, I am recalling the good thoughts that surrounded the plaque which is at Rainbow Bridge (see page 39 August, 1967, ARIZONA HIGHWAYS.) The plaque is made of bronze. It was modeled by Jo Mora, it was paid for by Raymond Armsby of San Francisco.

Interesting is this item: that Jo Mora was sketching the horizon to be seen from Volz's Trading Post near Canyon Diablo in 1906. Coming to view with interest and curiosity was a young Indian, probably a Paiute. After watching for a while and seeing that Mora was neither "Washington" nor "Sunday School," he talked. With sign language and motions, he pointed to the north, made the sun sign for a day, three times, riding horseback, of course, in that country, for he made the sign for riding horseback. Then he swung his arm in a huge curve to indicate Rainbow Bridge. But to Jo Mora, who had only recently come to the Navajo country to study, it did not represent what the Indian intended. Jo Mora stayed out in that country at Polacca until the fire in San Francisco in 1906. In 1913 he joined the Bohemian Club. Jimmie Swinnerton had belonged for years before, was president in 1929-31. At the club Swinnerton told various members about the interesting Monument Valley Country and particularly about the Wetherills of Kayenta. Of course, the big attraction was the Rainbow Bridge.

At the Bohemian Club, Raymond Armsby became interested in the new trip. He took a party of four people, care of the Wetherills, on a trip to the Brid Bridge. On his return to the club he suggested to Swinnerton that a plaque commemorating the fact that an Indian had disclosed the interesting Rainbow Bridge to the white man. Artist Jo Mora was chosen.

Only Hosteen John Wetherill was capable of transporting the plaque, with the wonderfully strong mule, named "Sarah" over the rough trail. But the feat was accomplished and the plaque set into place in a local celebration after 1924.

Jo Mora was not at the setting up of the plaque.

So, now after his first introduction to Rainbow Bridge, he is able to tell of it, through his plaque, to visitors, in perpetuity.

All the Wetherills are gone now and Kayenta is modernized! The sands still erode from the Rainbow Bridge.

NAVAJO RELIGION:

Your Navajoland issue of August is easily one of the most beautiful, impressive, and important you have ever published.

It is beautiful because of the wonderful art of Mr. DeGrazia, and your own fine and inspired writing. It is particularly impressive because of the strength, scope, and in-depth story of the religion of the Navajos.

It is important, not only for these two reasons, but because there is a great lack of understanding of these people, and much misinformation concerning their way of life. You have made a fine contribution to the Navajo, and to your readers. The article in your August, 1967 issue, Therapeutic Values in Navajo Religion is one of the best of its kind I've ever read. For a while, I could feel like a Navajo as a matter of fact still do.

This article left me with the definite impression that God, though He may appear in many forms and may have many helpers, always speaks to His peoples in their own tongues and in such a way that He and they will sooner or later get to understand Him and each other better. All the while this is a strictly private affair among those with whom He is concerned! (Or is God plural and should I say 'they'?) Nonetheless, in addition to the above mentioned article, the illustrations by Ted DeGrazia so complemented the article that I feel that this is the best issue you have ever put out and I've been taking ARIZONA HIGHWAYS, both on the newsstand and by subscription since 1946.

INSIDE BACK COVER

"BOBCAT, Lynx rufus" BY WILLIS PETERSON. One of the many creatures that inhabits the Mogollon Rim is the bobcat. Its retreat is the rocky recesses of the Rim's serrated face. His hunting areas are thickets of heavy brush and oak stands. The wild Rim country is an open textbook for the inquiring photographer and naturalist. 31/4 x 41/4 Speed Graphic, dual electronic flash, 1/200 sec. at f. 16.

BACK COVER

"ARIZONA'S BLACK BEAR, Ursus americanus" BY WILLIS PETERSON. One of the state's most secretive and wary mammals, this bear is found throughout the Mogollon Rim region and in other mountainous areas of Arizona. His favorite habitats are canyons and creeks where prolific plant life supplies an abundance of food supply for him and his family. Not a particularly pugnacious animal, the black bear can become dangerous when aroused or cornered. The best results in wildlife photography is obtained by the photographer with proper equipment and the trained knowledge of the dedicated naturalist. 800mm Astragon lens mounted on a Hasselblad 1000F camera, 1/25th sec. at f.rr.

This year say “MERRY CHRISTMAS” with a lasting gift.. Twelve issues of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS

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