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 Another Random Document on
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attended by some eight or ten vaqueros, who were driving them to
market. With the usual Mexican politeness they took particular pains
to give us the road; and to do so drove the whole herd over a high
hill, around the base of which the road ran.
Just before reaching La Ascension we came to the Mormon colony of
Diaz (named by them in honor of the present President of the
Mexican Republic), numbering about fifty families. A discussion of
their religious tenets is clearly and fortunately out of my province,
not only from its heavy, dreary character, but for the reason that
everything wise and otherwise about Mormonism has already been
put before those who care to read it. But entirely aside from the
subject of polygamy, which has so completely obscured every other
point about these people, they have one characteristic which is
seldom heard of in connection with them and their wanderings in the
Western wilderness. I refer to their building up of new countries.
They have no peer in pioneering among the Caucasian races. They
are so far ahead of the Gentiles in organized and discriminating,
businesslike colonization, that the latter are not close enough to
them to permit a comparison that would show their inferiority. Of
course they (the Mormons) see in their belief an ample explanation
for this excellence; it is far more probable, however, as I look at it
from my Gentile point of view, that it is due to the peculiar
organization of their Church, which so fits them for the work of
making the wilderness blossom as the rose.
No other Christian Church exercises so much authority over the
temporal affairs of its members as the Mormon Church. However
debatable this exercise of authority may be in civilized communities,
surrounded by people of the same kind, there is no doubt in my
mind as to its favorable effect upon pioneer associations,
encompassed by enemies in man and nature. This view of the
subject must be admitted by everyone who has grown up on the
Gentile frontier and seen the innumerable bickerings between
adjacent towns, the internal dissensions in the towns themselves,
the rivalry for "booms," the shotgun contests for county seats, the
thousands of exaggerations about their own interests, and the
hundreds of depreciations about those of others adjoining. As in its
spiritual, so in its temporal affairs, the authority of the Mormon
Church is remarkable for its effective power of centralization. It
judicially settles all questions for the general, not the individual
good; and upon this principle it determines, by the character of the
soil, and by the natural routes of travel, where colonies shall locate,
as well as what are the probable opportunities for propagation of the
faith. It is not at all surprising to one who has observed these facts
that an organized faith of almost any character should have
flourished, though surrounded by so much disorganization.
As a rule, at least from two to four years of quiet are needed after
an Indian war to restore such confidence among the whites that
they can settle the disturbed district in a bona-fide way. I should,
however, except the Mormons from this class, but to do so without
an explanation would appear somewhat unreasonable. Their long
and almost constant frontier experience has taught them how to
weigh Indian matters correctly, as well as others pertaining to the
ragged edge of civilization. Although the Apaches had been subdued
a dozen times by the Mexican and American governments
alternately, they knew when the subduing meant subjugation, and
before Geronimo and his cabinet were halfway to the orange groves
of Florida, Mormon wagon poles were pointing to the rich valleys of
Northwestern Chihuahua.
They number here a few hundred families, a mere fraction in view of
all the available land of the magnificent valleys of the Casas
Grandes, Boca Grande, Santa Maria, and others; and they never will
predominate politically or in numbers over the other inhabitants if
we include the Mexican population, which is almost universally
Catholic. In fact, those already established seem content merely to
settle down and be let alone; this end they attain by purchase of
tracts of land over which they can throw their authority and be a
little community unto themselves, neither disturbing nor wishing to
be disturbed by others.
Their success has already invited the more avaricious, but less coldly
calculating Gentile; and while it is stating it a little strong to say
there is a "boom," or even indications of one, within the thirty to
sixty miles between villages, my conscience is not disturbed in
saying that I can at least agree with the great American poet that,

We hear the first low wash of waves

Where soon shall roll a human sea.

Already a railway was talked of, and the usual undue excitement was
manifested. Every stranger was supposed to have something to do
with it. Even my own little expedition was thought to be a sort of
preliminary reconnoissance. I have never constructed a railway in my
life, but I have been along the advancing lines of a number of new
ones, and have seen them grow from two iron rails in a wilderness
to a great country. I do not recall any that had much brighter
prospects ahead than the proposed one along the eastern slopes of
the Sierra Madres. That it must be built some day the resources of
the country clearly demand, and it is to be hoped that it will be at as
early a date as possible.
At La Ascension we were greatly indebted to Mr. Francis, a young
English gentleman, who literally placed his house at our disposal,
giving up his own room for our comfort. As there were no inns in La
Ascension except those of the lowest order, this generous hospitality
of the only Englishman in the town was warmly appreciated by us.
One of our wagons having met with a slight accident, we remained
over Sunday to await repairs. As soon as this was known to the
inhabitants invitations began to pour in to attend cockfights, and one
of especial magnitude was organized in our honor. The finest cocks
in the place were to take part, and the presidente or mayor of the
town would preside. Then, to add distinction to the already exciting
programme, a baile or ball was hastily gotten up for the evening.
Hospitality could go no farther in this out-of-the-way town, for the
people were really not rich enough to support a bullfight. Early in the
morning, before the population had recovered from the dissipations
of the previous night, we bade our hospitable host "good-by," and,
wrapped in our heaviest coats against the chill morning air, we
started southward toward Corralitos, about thirty-five or forty miles
away. After crossing wide mesas and threading our way around the
bases of many picturesque groups of mountains, we came to the
Casas Grandes River and valley, and along this stream, literally alive
with ducks, we traveled for some hours. It was a great temptation to
get out the guns and shoot at the ducks that were calmly sailing by
us on the broad and rapid stream; but as we had neither dog nor
boat it would have been impossible to secure them had we done so.
The consoling thought was ours that the hacienda was not far
distant, and there we would likely find everything necessary to assist
us in this or any other sport.
Approaching the hacienda we passed immense droves of horses and
cattle grazing on the rich bottom lands. Corralitos has a very pretty,
an almost poetical name, but it loses much of its romantic character
when it is known that it is named for some old, dilapidated sheep
pens that once existed here, corralitos being little pens or little
corrals. It is a hacienda, some eighty or ninety years old, with an
extremely interesting history, that would make a book more thrilling
than any fiction. The main building is a great square inclosure with
very thick walls, having many loopholes for guns, and high turrets or
towers at the corners. To enter the building are massive gates, while
inside are a number of courts with other gates leading to other
inclosures, and making the interior building appear like a small town.
Here during the fierce Apache raids the whole population was
gathered for protection, and the crack of Apache rifles has often
been heard around the thick walls. Dons of Spanish blood have
extracted fortunes from the mountain sides near by in mines that
have been worked since shortly after the Conquest. It is a hacienda
of about a million acres in extent, and one of the most beautiful in
the whole State of Chihuahua, the Casas Grandes River running for
some thirty miles through the estate. The true hacienda, of which
we hear so much in Mexican narration, is really a definite area of
twenty-two thousand acres, but the name is now used so as to
mean almost any estate, whether large or small, under one
management. With the advance of railways haciendas are slowly
disappearing, and will soon exist only in poetry or fiction.
The views from the hacienda are beautiful in the extreme. To the
east lies a range of mountains filled with seams of silver, the
Corralitos Company working some thirty to forty mines; while one
hundred and fifty to two hundred "prospects" await development.
These mines have been known and worked since the Spaniards
entered this part of Mexico. To the west of the hacienda flows the
Casas Grandes River, flanked on either side by enormous old
cottonwood trees; while for a background rise the immense peaks of
the Sierra Madres, covered with snow, and breaking into all sorts of
fantastic shapes as they extend down toward the river.
The Corralitos Company is owned mainly in the United States, New
York capitalists being the principal stockholders.
While at Diaz City I had learned from Dr. W. Derby Johnson, the
ecclesiastical head of the Mormon colonies in Upper Chihuahua, that
at the lower colony on the Piedras Verdes River a number of ancient
Aztec ruins were to be seen, very few of which had ever been heard
of before. I determined to visit them as soon as possible, for the
reason that Mr. Macdonald, the business manager of the lower
colony, was expecting to leave shortly for Salt Lake City. This
gentleman was unusually well acquainted with the country of the
Piedras Verdes, having spent months in surveying it, and being more
familiar with its ancient ruins than any other man living. Fortunately
Dr. Johnson was going through to see him—a two days' trip—so to a
certain extent we joined our forces for that time. Expecting to return
to Corralitos, we left early one morning for a drive of about sixty
miles to the lower Mormon colony of Juarez, named after Mexico's
greatest President since the war of independence.
Twenty-five or thirty miles to the south of Corralitos we came to the
town of Casas Grandes, said to consist of three thousand
inhabitants, but we did not see three people as we drove through its
seemingly deserted streets. It is the most important town in the
valley, both historically and in point of numbers. It takes its name,
meaning "big houses," from the ancient ruins situated in its suburbs,
and comprising the largest found in this part of Mexico when it was
first visited by Europeans many years ago. The name of the town
has also been applied to the river which flows just in front of it, and
which is formed by the junction of two others, the San Miguel and
Piedras Verdes. The San Miguel is the straight line prolongation of
the Casas Grandes, and is apparently the true stream; but the
Piedras Verdes is the more important, as its waters are perennially
replenished by branches which rise in the never-failing springs of the
sierras to the west. At Casas Grandes we left the river and struck out
inland for the little Mormon colony on the Piedras Verdes River, a
distance of some twenty or twenty-five miles. Like all other distances
in this part of Mexico, there is not a sign of civilization between, not
even a camping place, although the country traversed is a fine one
for cattle grazing, with numerous beautiful valleys where farms could
be made remunerative, and where three or four dozen houses ought
to be seen if a tenth part of the country's resources were developed.
As we crossed stretch after stretch of beautiful prairie, watered by
many little mountain streams, it seemed as though only a short time
must pass before this fertile country would be dotted with hundreds
of homes and thousands of cattle on its grassy hills. The meaning of
Piedras Verdes is green rocks, but the rock projections in cliff, hill, or
stream, are of all imaginable shades, not only of green, but of red,
yellow, brown, rose, and even blue. The effect is inconceivably
beautiful against the wonderful blue sky of this part of Mexico. Just
before reaching the Mormon colony you come to a high ridge from
which can be seen the little town nestling along the banks of the
picturesque Piedras Verdes River. It is a scene seldom surpassed in
beauty. Far to the west are the grand Sierra Madres, crested with
snow, while nearer, the great shaggy hills, covered with timber, and
the many bright-colored rocks between, make up a picture that
neither poet nor painter could depict.
Juarez is a bright-looking little town of some fifty families, who raise
all their own fruits and vegetables, and have a goodly supply for the
less thrifty people of the surrounding country. Our party was kindly
cared for by two or three of the Mormon families, as there were no
other places of shelter beside their homes. The next day we started
to visit the ancient ruins on the Tapasita River (a branch of the
Piedras Verdes), which flows through as beautiful a little valley as I
ever saw. Mr. Macdonald, the surveyor of this tract, kindly consented
to accompany us, although he was overburdened with business
incidental to starting the next day for Salt Lake City. In the Tapasita
valley I expected to find only a single well-defined group of ruins.
Imagine my surprise, then, upon discovering that the entire country,
especially in its valleys, was covered with such evidences. A high hill,
called the Picacho de Torreon, had been occupied on its southern
face by cliff dwellers; at our feet was a mass of rubbish that
indicated a ruin of the latter people. Twelve miles up the Tapasita
was still another extensive ruin of stone, while the intervening space
was constantly marked by similar remains. In fact, as before stated,
the whole valley was one vast continuation of ruins. We were surely
on ground once occupied by an ancient and dense population—
where the fertile resources of the country will again sustain another
and a far more civilized race. Even Juarez City found a great many
such mounds on its site, and digging into some of them has revealed
much of interest. Just before our arrival a pot or jar had been taken
from one of the mounds, and was bought by me of the young boy
who unearthed it. It is like many other jars from Casas Grandes, as
well as from better known ruins, and that have already figured in
works on Mexico. It differs, however, from most of them in having
upon it the figure of a bird, as representations of animals of any sort
are very unusual upon their decorated surfaces. The bird seems
more nearly to resemble the chaparral cock or California road runner
than any other bird in this part of the world. Geometrical designs are
frequent, and of these the zigzag, stairlike forms are the most
common. Many other things had been found in this mound, including
a number of utensils of pottery, together with the human bones of
their makers. No doubt similar relics, with some variations, could be
found in all these mounds. We saw, I think, many hundreds of these
ruins in the Piedras Verdes region, most of them merely mounds
suggestive of what they once were. Ancient ditches could also be
plainly made out along the hillsides, showing that the former
inhabitants cultivated the rich soil of the valleys. They well
understood the value of water, too, for around the bases of the
small, streamless valleys leading into the watered ones were damlike
terraces, evidently designed to catch and retain the water after
showers until it was needed in the irrigating ditches. On the top of
high hills adjacent were fortified places, apparently where they must
have fled in times of danger from other tribes. They were a
wonderful and interesting people, one that would repay careful
study, even from the little evidence of their existence that is left.

ANCIENT JAR UNEARTHED AT JUAREZ CITY.

On the Tapasita we came upon the ruins of what must have been a
large city of these people—the largest we saw in that part of the
country. The only life we saw there was a mountain lion or panther,
that came trotting along the valley until it saw us, when it turned
back into the mountains. Truly the wild beasts were wandering over
the Toltec Babylon.
It is impossible for an artist to convey in plain black and white any
idea of the beauty of this country; it is a land requiring the painter to
exhibit its beauties.
One of the interesting peculiarities of the numerous ruins found
throughout this portion of the country, and that indicates a once
dense population living off the soil, is the way in which most of them
seem to have met their fate. When a ruined house is dug into all the
skeletons of its occupants are found in what may be termed the
combined kitchen and eating room,—these two rooms being in one,
—and always near a fireplace. The postures of these skeletons are
as various as it is possible for the human body to assume. They are
found kneeling, stretched out, sometimes with their locked hands
over their heads, on their sides, and, again, with their children in
their arms, hardly any two being alike in the same house or series of
houses, where they were united into a pueblo. Now in the whole
study of sepulture it has been almost universally found that even
among the lowest savages as well as among the most civilized
peoples, whatever form of burial is adopted, no matter how absurd
from our point of view, it is uniform in the main points, allowing, of
course, slight deviations for caste or rank. The positions of the
skeletons in their own houses do not accord with this general fact,
and have led some to believe that this race was destroyed by an
earthquake or other violent action of nature.
I had a long talk with Mr. Davis, superintendent of the Corralitos
Company, who has made a study of these ancient ruins from having
them almost forced upon his attention. That gentleman not only
believes they were cut off by a violent earthquake, as I have
suggested, but that this great cataclysm caught them at their
evening meal. He infers the latter fact from a consideration of the
customs of the present almost pureblooded Indians here, who must
have descended from the older race, although, singularly enough,
knowing nothing of their ancient progenitors. The evening meal is
the only occasion when they are all gathered together at home. The
earthquake must have been a very severe one, and have brought
down the large buildings upon the occupants before they could
escape. This region is not especially liable to such disasters. That it
has them, however, occasionally, and severe ones too, is shown by
the Bavispe earthquake of a few years ago, when that town was
destroyed, some forty people killed, and the whole country shaken
up. Mr. Davis goes on with his theory that the survivors were thus
exposed to the mercy of their enemies (that they had enemies
before is shown by their fortifications adjoining almost every village),
and became cliff dwellers as a last resource to escape the fury of
their old assailants. These, probably, were savages by comparison;
and, living in savage homes, as skin tents or wikeyups, and other
light abodes, they suffered little from the great commotion referred
to. When the partially vanquished race became strong enough they
wandered southward as the first, or among the first, Toltec
excursions in that direction.
While at Corralitos Mr. Davis told me of some ruins situated about
halfway between his hacienda and Casas Grandes, near Barranca. I
visited them next day, and found a very noticeable and well-defined
road leading straight up a hill to a slight bench overtopped by a
higher hill at the end of the bench. Here was an ancient ruin, built of
stone, and looking very much like a position of defense. It may have
been a sacrificial place, for otherwise I cannot account for the
careful construction of the road. For defensive purposes it would not
have been needed, especially one so well made; but observation has
taught me that, when no other reasonable explanation can be found
for doing a thing, superstitious or religious motives can be
consistently introduced to account for it. This hill was really an
outlying one from a larger near by and overlooking it. After climbing
up the latter about halfway a series of stone buildings, not
discernible from the bottom, were clearly made out. They encircled
the hill, and about halfway between these and the top of the hill was
another row of encircling buildings, faintly recognized by their ruins,
although the masonry was of the best character. On the top of the
hill was a fortification, with a well probably about twenty feet from
the summit, overtopped and almost hidden by a hanging mesquite
bush. At the base of both hills was a series of mounds extending as
far as the eye could reach. I almost fear to place an estimate on
their number, nor can I positively say they represented buildings at
all. In all or nearly all other mounds there is some sign of the house
walls protruding through the débris; here I found none, but they
closely resemble the other mounds except in this respect. Everything
goes to show that these people were on the defensive, and that
defense was often necessary. The ruins looked very much older than
any others I had visited, but that can in a measure be accounted for,
I think, by the sandy character of the district. Nothing makes an
abandoned building or other work of man look so antiquated as
drifting sand piled up around it. This town, therefore, may have
been contemporaneous with the ruined towns of the Casas Grandes
valley generally, although the latter look much more recent from
being built on more compact soil.
As I have already more than hinted, all these valleys along the
foothills of the Sierra Madre Mountains may have held a dense
population when these ancient people sojourned here, and if the
physical characteristics were the same as at the present time it is
very easy to account for. To the westward it is too mountainous for
many people to find homes and cultivate the soil, while to the
eastward the country is too barren after one passes the line of the
lakes, or where the mountain rivers sink. The strip along the
foothills, between the main ridge of mountains and the plains, is
about the only place where an agricultural people could live in large
numbers and thrive; and now that the dreaded Apache Indian has
been finally subdued, I think the day is not far distant when it will be
again peopled by a community engaged in peaceful pursuits. These
ancients probably raised everything they needed, so that there was
very little commerce between them, and not much need of roads or
trails, although a few of them are occasionally made out with great
distinctness.
I have already spoken of the plainly marked road leading up the
steep sides of Davis Hill. One can see this fully a mile away, although
not able to fully make out its true character at that distance; the
observer might suppose it to be a strip of light grass in a depression,
until his error was corrected by a closer inspection.
The fortifications on the summit, considered from a military
standpoint, were the most complete that could be desired. The hills
retreated on both sides, giving full scope to the eye up and down
the broad valley, every square yard of which was probably irrigated
and cultivated. Without doubt the fortifications could safely be left
unguarded in clear weather, when the inhabitants would probably be
at work on their farms. A few keen-sighted sentinels, suitably
posted, might give notice of a coming foe in ample time for the
population to man the intrenchments before an attack could possibly
be made by the most rapidly moving enemy. This, of course,
assumes that the able-bodied citizen of that day was equally an
artisan or farmer and a soldier; it is an assumption, however, that
accords with our knowledge of many other ancient races.
On our way back to the hacienda from these ruins we passed
through an old, abandoned Mexican mining town called Barranca. It
plainly showed its ancient character in the long rows of slag that had
come from the adobe furnaces, some of which were still standing.
Although many of the adobe houses were in excellent condition,
even the old church being in a fair state of preservation, there was
not a soul about the place. The primitive methods of doing the work
and the richness of the ore which had been smelted could be seen in
any piece of slag taken from the piles. By cutting a little almost pure
lead and silver were revealed, probably in the same proportions as
they existed in the vein. These piles of slag would represent a
fortune, with new and improved machinery like that employed in the
United States, to resmelt them, and with a railway running near. This
place, moreover, is only one of the many where fortunes are lying
dormant in the different slag piles of the old mines of northwestern
Chihuahua alone.
It is difficult to get information from the natives regarding the
mineral wealth of the country. If they have a good mine they are
exceedingly shy about saying so, and they are very jealous lest
foreigners should obtain valuable mining property. They dislike to
see it pass from under their control, and do not take kindly to the
foreign spirit of enterprise and improvement. This, however, is quite
contrary to the policy of the Mexican Government, which is doing all
it can to induce capital to come in for investment. The country is in a
stable, settled condition, and we found every part that we visited
quite as safe as the more settled communities of the United States.
The politeness and disposition to oblige of the humblest of the
Mexican people you can rely upon invariably, and that is more than
can be said of the corresponding class in more enlightened
countries.
This day of our visit to the ruins of Davis Hill was very warm, and
our driver, not having a taste for antiquarian research, even in the
modest degree possessed by me, had quite resented being dragged
from the shade of the great cottonwood trees around the hacienda.
To show his native independence of spirit he therefore refused to
listen to advice and water his horses on the road, but on returning
allowed them to drink all they wanted; as a consequence one horse
died. We left Deming with two large American horses, but now
found it impossible, even on that great hacienda, to obtain a suitable
match, so we were obliged to start off with a comical, sturdy
broncho for a mate, which not only gave a very lop-sided look to the
conveyance, but an appearance of extreme cruelty toward the little
animal. Whenever the big horse trotted the little fellow would take
up a canter to keep alongside, and it was almost enough to make a
person seasick to watch the ill-mated pair get over the ground.
We were soon back again to Corralitos, and inside the forbidding
looking gates. Here we were very comfortably housed, with a bright
fire burning in the bedroom fireplace to take the chill off the air, as
the rooms in these thick adobe buildings are much like cellars in
their temperature, whether it is warm or cold outside. We had not
been in many hours before other strangers began to arrive:
Englishmen from their ranches, miners from the silver mines, a
surveying party, and a number of cattlemen. By nightfall the place
was swarming with people, and the problem was where to stow
away so many for the night. The long table in the old adobe dining
room was three times full. There is no lack of fresh meat on such an
hacienda, all that is necessary being to send out the butcher, who
kills whatever is wanted from the abundant supply on the range, for
in that clear, rare atmosphere meat is preserved until used.
There is another feature of large haciendas like this that may prove
interesting. I refer to the store, which usually occupies one corner of
the building. At this store is found every kind of merchandise that is
wanted, and here is doled out to the Indian population in exchange
for their work certain quantities of flour or sugar,—you can be sure
the amount is always very small,—and in time the simple people
draw much more than is due them for work, as they are always
allowed credit. Then it is they become peons or slaves, for they
rarely get out of debt, but increase it until they are virtually owned
by the lords of the soil, who can do as they please with the poor
creatures, and work them whenever and wherever they see fit.
These debts descend from father to son; in this manner they are
continually increasing, and so the chains are riveted. I suppose the
system has many advantages as well as disadvantages, but certainly
we see the disadvantages to the poor and simple people, who,
having their immediate wants supplied, do not care to look beyond.
Among the more intelligent this condition is very galling, but as a
rule they are shrewd enough to avoid it.
Standing a short distance from the inclosing wall of the hacienda,
and in the midst of the poor quarter, was a dilapidated Roman
Catholic church. There was no resident priest, but one came twice a
year from a settlement farther south. At all hours of the day,
however, women could be found kneeling in front of the primitive
altar, a poor, degraded class, with not as much morality as the most
savage tribes who have never heard of civilization.
My trip of over two hundred miles down the eastern slope of the
Sierra Madre Mountains, from the boundary between the two
countries, coupled with the information I gained en route, showed
me that I might do better by attempting to make my way through
the great range from the westward; so it was decided to make the
change of base from the State of Chihuahua to that of Sonora.
While visiting at La Ascension on our return trip we saw about a
dozen Mexicans extracting silver from ore by a method which is as
old as that mentioned in the Bible. The rich ore, showing probably
two hundred and fifty dollars to the ton, had been taken out of the
vein with crowbars and by rough blasting, and then brought to the
town on the backs of burros. Here the huge rocks were first crushed
with sledge hammers until they were about the size of one's fist and
could be easily handled, then broken again with smaller hand
hammers until almost as fine as coarse sand. This was reduced to a
complete powder by being beaten in heavy leather bags. After these
operations it was mixed with water and thrown into an arastra, a
cross between a coffee mill and a quartz crusher; in other words,
consisting of four stones tied to a revolving mill-bar and turned by
the inevitable mule. This makes a paste rich in granulated silver,
which is mixed with salt and boiled in a little pot, as if they were
making apple butter instead of working one of the richest veins of
silver in a country celebrated for its valuable silver mines. The
resulting mass is washed out in a pan, as a prospecting miner
washes for signs of gold, with the exception that quicksilver is put in
to form an amalgam with the now liberated metal. The latter is
pressed out with the hand, and the little ball of amalgam, as bright
as silver itself, has the mercury driven off by a furnace only big
enough to fry the eggs for a party of two. The pure silver ball,
glistening like hoar frost in the sun, is now beaten down to the size
of a big marble to prevent its breaking to pieces. It is exasperating
in the extreme to see such ignorant methods of man applied to the
rich offerings of nature.
There was but very little out of the usual routine of travel for a day
or two, until we came to the third crossing of the Casas Grandes
River, at a point so near its entrance into Laguna Guzman that we
felt sure we would have no trouble in getting over. For, as I have
already explained, most of the rivers in this country are larger the
nearer you approach their heads. There had been no rains to swell
the streams, and our surprise can therefore be imagined when, upon
reaching the river, we found it a raging torrent. A long experience
had taught me that it does not pay to await the falling of a swollen
river; so we set at work to get over the obstreperous stream. The
loads were all piled on the seats, above the empty wagon beds,
which, being thus weighted and top-heavy, acted like so many boats
when they dashed into the river. Our driver, a Mexican, had the
worst of it in a low, light wagon, drawn by two small pinto bronchos.
The flood swept him down stream under an overhanging clump of
willows, despite a rope tied to the tongue of the wagon and another
held firmly by a half dozen persons on the upstream side. But he
was as cool at the head as at the feet, although he was knee deep in
ice water at the time as he stood up in the wagon bed. After waiting
a moment to allow the horses to regain their bewildered senses, he
swam them upstream to the crossing, and the men, with a whoop
and a yell, dragged the whole affair on shore, looking like drowned
rats tied to a cigar box. We were three hours and a quarter getting
over that river, and felt as if we could have drowned the man who
wrote that Northern Mexico is a vast, waterless tract of country.

CROSSING THE CASAS GRANDES RIVER.

 CHAPTER III.

SONORA—ALONG
THE SONORA
RAILWAY—
HERMOSILLO—
GUAYMAS, AND
ITS
BEAUTIFUL
HARBOR—
FISHING AND
HUNTING ABOUT
GUAYMAS.

F rom Deming, N. M., it is but a five or six hours' ride by rail to

Benson in Arizona, the initial point of the Sonora railway, a branch of
the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fé, and extending to the seaport of
Guaymas in Mexico. The ride from Benson consumes two days, and
the route is through the mountains, down the lovely, fertile valleys,
and across the flat, tropical country of the seacoast. It is a ride of
great novelty and of surpassing beauty throughout the entire
distance. After the train reached Nogalles, a town which is half in the
United States and half in Mexico, it was made up in regular Mexican
fashion of first, second, and third class coaches; and, from the
number of Mexicans aboard, it appeared they were as much given to
travel as their more active neighbors of the North; with this
difference, however: that where they can save a penny by going
second or third class they do so. This fact removes an interesting
feature of Mexican travel from the sight of the average American
tourist, for, as a rule, he prefers comfort to the study of the
picturesque in his fellow-travelers.
When we reached Hermosillo, a place of about ten thousand people,
the station was filled with vendors of oranges; and such oranges I
never tasted elsewhere, although I have sampled that fruit in some
of the most famous groves of Florida and California. In sweetness,
delicious flavor, and juiciness they surpass all others; in fact it is
impossible to find a poor or insipid one among all you can buy and
eat. It is a pity there is so little market for this very superior fruit.
The entire country from Hermosillo down to the coast seems to be a
perfect one for orange culture, and for all other semi-tropical fruits.
The prices paid for oranges are very reasonable, for much more is
grown than can be consumed, and there seems to be little outlet for
the surplus in any direction.
Just before reaching Guaymas the railway winds among the coast
range of mountains, and crosses a shallow arm of the sea that is
bridged with a long trestle. As you pass over the bridge you can look
across the harbor through the gaps in the steep mountains straight
out to sea, or rather into the Gulf of California. Again you are treated
to long vistas of the beautiful mountain-locked harbor as the train
winds around the steep peaks and you approach the old seaport.
Before going to this port, the principal one on the Gulf of California,
I made up my mind there would be comparatively little to say
regarding it, as it is not only the terminus of a railway, but is also
located on one or two lines of steamship travel, and would therefore
be almost as well known as some California resorts or other famous
places of the Pacific coast. It proved, on the contrary, to be seldom
or never visited by tourists. I could find nothing about it in my
numerous guidebooks and volumes devoted to Mexico, but
nevertheless discovered a great deal of interest in this typical old
town that was both novel and attractive. When the Sonora railway
first reached here a number of years ago everything was ready to be
"boomed." A hotel to cost a quarter of a million was started on a
beautiful knoll overlooking the picturesque harbor, but after about
one-tenth that amount had been put into the foundation and
carriage way leading up the hill it was given up.
It may not be inappropriate to say that all of Guaymas is very much
like the hotel—it has a fine foundation, but not much of anything
else, although its sanitary conditions for a winter resort are nowhere
else excelled. The first day you arrive you get a sample of the
weather in mild, warm days, with cool nights, that will not vary a
hair's breadth in all your stay. The harbor is picturesque in the
extreme. It is completely landlocked, and swarms with a hundred
kinds of fishes. It looks not unlike the harbor of San Francisco, and,
although smaller, is far more interesting in the many beautiful vistas
it opens to sight as one sails over its intricate waters. If it should
ever become a popular winter resort no finer fishing or sailing could
be had than in the harbor of Guaymas and the Gulf of California. A
constant sea or land breeze is blowing in summer and winter, but it
is never strong enough to make the waters dangerous. I have been
fishing several times, and certainly the piscatorial bill of fare, as
shown by my experience, has been an extremely varied one.
While off the shore in the harbor one afternoon I caught a shark
measuring a little over six feet in length, which gave me a tussle of
about a quarter of an hour before I could pull it alongside and
plunge a knife into its heart. This last operation, be it observed, was
not so much to end its own sufferings as to prevent those of other
and better fish, and maybe a human being or so, in the near future.
The natives told me, however, that it was only the large spotted or
tiger shark, a species seldom seen there, that will deign to mistake
the leg of a swimmer for the early worm that is caught by the bird.
None of the shark kind enter the inner harbor where a sensible
person would naturally bathe, as he wants enough water to hide his
movements from his prey, and this condition seldom exists in the
inner harbor. Indeed its name, Guaymas, borrowed from that of an
Indian tribe, means a cup of water; and it is aptly applied, for the
harbor is so landlocked and protected that seldom more than the
slightest ripple disturbs its mirror-like surface, although breezes that
will waft sailboats prevail throughout the day.
A VIEW OF GUAYMAS HARBOR.
As a further part of my fishing experience we caught a number of
perch-like fish called by the people cabrilla (meaning little goat-fish,
on account of some fancied resemblance to that animal, so
numerous in the settled parts of Mexico), and which is pronounced
the sweetest fish known on the Pacific coast. They are not as big as
one's hand, and, of course, it takes a great many of them to make a
mess for a few persons, but once a mess is secured it cannot be
equaled in all the catches known to the piscatorial art. Another fish
that we secured, and which the natives call boca dulce (sweet
mouth), looked like a German carp. It had a pale blue head,
weighed from two to four pounds, and seemed to run in schools,
with no truants whatever to be found outside the school. One might
fish a day for the boca dulce and never get a bite, but on the instant
one was caught you could haul them in over the side of the boat as
fast as you could bait and drop your hook, the biting ceasing as
suddenly as it began. They are a delicious fish for eating, and should
Guaymas ever become the large-sized city which its favorable
position seems to promise, the boca dulce will furnish one of the
leading fishes for its market.
While we were there the United States Fish Commission steamer
Albatross came into the harbor from a long cruise in investigating
the fishes of the Gulf of California, and Captain Tanner of the United
States Navy told a small party of us that there were enough fish in
the Gulf of California to supply all the markets of Mexico and the
United States. Singularly enough, nearly all this great fish supply in
the Gulf was along the eastern coast of this American Adriatic, or on
the Sonora and Sinaloa side, rather than on or along the coast of
Lower California. A good system of railways to the interior mining
camps is needed to make this great supply available to the wealth of
this naturally wealthy, but now poorly developed country. This will
inevitably come, for no one can travel in Northern Mexico without
clearly seeing it has a grand and wonderful future ahead, that will
greatly strengthen us if we are in the ascendant, and that can
correspondingly hurt us in an hour of need if we are not. The tide is
rapidly setting in our favor, if we take proper advantage of it.
When I first sailed on the waters of the Gulf of California, some
eighteen years ago, its commerce, although small indeed, was three-
fourths in the hands of Europeans, while to-day three-fourths of it is
American, and only the other fourth European. We labor under one
disadvantage, however, and that is we do not attempt to cater to
another's taste, even though to do so would be money in our
pockets. There are peculiar lines of cheap prints and cottons made in
Europe that are sold only on the west coast of Mexico, not a yard
finding its way to any other part of the world. Now, while our goods
command higher prices, and a great deal finds a market there, it
does not "exactly fill the bill," and Americans, probably from not
knowing the real wants of these people, do not manufacture the
needed articles, and drive foreign stuff from the Mexican market.
The ignorance of our people as to the commercial value of Mexico,
and especially those parts off the principal lines of railway, is
certainly great, and is losing us money now, and a more important
influence later. Our enormous advantage of contiguity is pressing us
forward in spite of ourselves, and we ought to sweep nearly every
line of commerce in Mexico from the hands of foreigners—a fact that
is most emphatically true of the northern part of that rich territory.
After cooking our lunch of cabrillas and boca dulces on the northern
or inside shore of San Vincente Island we made a visit to the caves
on the southern or seaward face of the same island. This led us
through a little gorge between two high, beetling cliffs, into which
the sea had excavated the caves we were to see. Through, or rather
under, this gorge the waters pour into a small underground funnel of
the solid rock before they reach the little lagoon beyond. At all hours
the reverberation of the rushing tide is like thunder, as it beats
backward and forward in its prison. The upper crust of the funnel is
pierced with occasional holes and crevices, and at certain stages of
water these are the mouths of so many spouting geysers, as each
wave comes in and beats against the stone roof that confines it.
Woe to the person who tries to cross just as a high wave reaches its
maximum strength in the cave beneath! He will get the quickest and
most effectual bath of his lifetime. Once on the seaward face a long
line of caves is presented to view.
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