Arizona Sketches | Page 7

ago, their bodies were
disinterred and removed to the National cemetery at Washington.
Railroad Pass is naturally a better wagon road than Apache Pass, but is

without water. It was named by Lieut. J. G. Parke in 1855 while
engaged in surveying for the Pacific Railroad, because of its easy grade
and facility for railroad construction.
I timed my visit to correspond with the arrival at Bowie station on the
Southern Pacific Railroad, of a consignment of ranch goods that had
been shipped from St. Louis. I was met at the depot by the ranch force,
who immediately proceeded to initiate me as a tenderfoot. I inquired of
one of the cowboys how far it was to a near-by mountain. He gave a
quien sabe shrug of the shoulder and answered me in Yankee fashion
by asking how far I thought it was. Estimating the distance as in a
prairie country I replied, "Oh, about a mile." He laughed and said that
the mountain was fully five miles distant by actual measurement. I had
unwittingly taken my first lesson in plainscraft and prudently refrained
thereafter from making another sure guess.
The deception was due to the rarefied atmosphere, which is peculiar to
the arid region. It not only deceives the eye as to distance, but also as to
motion. If the eye is steadily fixed upon some distant inanimate object,
it seems to move in the tremulous light as if possessed of life, and it is
not always easy to be convinced to the contrary. However, by putting
the object under inspection in line with some further object, it can
readily be determined whether the object is animate or still by its
remaining on or moving off the line.
Another peculiarity of the country is that objects do not always seem to
stand square with the world. In approaching a mountain and moving on
an up grade the plane of incline is suddenly reversed and gives the
appearance and sensation of going downhill. In some inexplicable
manner sense and reason seem to conflict and the discovery of the
disturbed relation of things is startling. You know very well that the
mountain ahead is above you, but it has the appearance of standing
below you in a hollow; and the water in the brook at your feet, which
runs down the mountain into the valley, seems to be running uphill. By
turning squarely about and looking backwards, the misplaced objects
become righted, and produces much the same sensation that a man feels
who is lost and suddenly finds himself again.
We immediately prepared to drive out to the ranch, which was ten
miles distant and reached by a road that skirted the Dos Cabezas
mountains. The new wagon was set up and put in running order and

lightly loaded with supplies. All of the preliminaries being completed,
the horses were harnessed and hooked to the wagon. The driver
mounted his seat, drew rein and cracked his whip, but we didn't go. The
horses were only accustomed to the saddle and knew nothing about
pulling in harness. Sam was a condemned cavalry horse and Box was a
native bronco, and being hitched to a wagon was a new experience to
both. The start was unpropitious, but, acting on the old adage that
"necessity is the mother of invention," which truth is nowhere better
exemplified than on the frontier where conveniences are few and the
most must be made of everything, after some delay and considerable
maneuvering we finally got started.
The road for some distance out was level and smooth and our progress
satisfactory. As we drove leisurely along I improved the opportunity to
look about and see the sights. It was a perfect day in April and there
never was a brighter sky nor balmier air than beamed and breathed
upon us. The air was soft and tremulous with a magical light that
produced startling phantasmagoric effects.
It was my first sight of a mirage and it naturally excited my curiosity. It
seemed as if a forest had suddenly sprung up in the San Simon valley
where just before had appeared only bare ground. With every change in
the angle of vision as we journeyed on, there occurred a corresponding
change in the scene before us that produced a charming kaleidoscopic
effect. The rough mountain was transformed into a symmetrical city
and the dry valley into a lake of sparkling water,--all seeming to be the
work of magic in some fairyland of enchantment.
In a ledge of granite rock by the wayside were cut a number of round
holes which the Indians had made and used as mills for grinding their
corn and seeds into meal. Nearby also, were some mescal pits used for
baking the agave, a native plant that is in