There is no more exciting page in our story than the days of 1872-3 when the troops of the Department of Arizona made their campaign under General Crook. This campaign began early in December, 1872, and was crowned with the surrender of hostile chiefs and their twenty-five thousand followers at Camp Verde, April, 1873. The Apaches had taken to the rocks like scattering quail. Major Brown's column swept through the Mescal, Pinal, Superstition, Sierra Ancha, and Mazatzal ranges, where the Indians were crippled by rearguards of trooper detachments continually weaving across each other's trails. Finally the Apaches concentrated at three main points, the Canon of the Salt River, the summit of Turret Butte, and the cliffs of the Superstition Mountains. Led by Apache scouts, Brown's command moved like ghosts at midnight to the precipice on the canon of the Salt River. The first detachment climbed down noiselessly to face the barriered cave, the stronghold of the Apaches. Braves returned from hunting were leaping about a campfire. The flames flared on the steep cliff walls and the rapid Salado rumbled far below. In this buzzard's eyrie another flame spat suddenly from the carbines of the troopers and thunders rolled, reechoing from the rock-face in the chilly December dawn. Over their parapet swarmed the Apache warriors, shouting their death-song. So dramatic is the moment that it reads almost like a "penny dreadful," and yet this was one of the actualities of that period of history, an actuality that still thrills the memory on the Apache Trail. Major Randall carried out a similar raid later at Turret Butte, and soon after the garrison in the Superstition Mountains. surrendered to Major Brown in open daylight. Before the end of May, 1873, General Crook had humanely and sanely provided for the civilized care of six thousand reformed Apaches at Camp Apache and Camp Verde. Manufacture of the intoxicating tizwin was stopped and a system of trial by a jury of their own people established. Such, then, is a rapid glance at the most. outstanding historic features of the Apache Trail. It should be enough to convince any American that a survey of this region is essential to a vital understanding of his country's history. And the landscape that staged these Homeric scenes is still so wild and inspiring in its natural features that our minds easily absorb their atmosphere. Moreover, to fittingly drive home the remarkable contrast between enterprise old and new, the half-way point upon the present auto road between Globe and Phoenix gives us a complete close view of the great Roosevelt Dam, a modern triumph of engineering. Its reservoir is the sparkling blue of Roosevelt Lake, thirty miles long and four miles across at its widest point, set in the midst of wonderful scenery near the upper end of Salt River Canon. The maximum height of the dam is 280 feet. It has cost millions to erect and has made a flourishing garden out of a quarter million barren acres. A sixteen-foot driveway, 1,125 feet long, leads across its crest. Not far from Roosevelt are the easily accessible cliff dwellings of the Southwest. The second half of the trip from here on displays constantly varied panoramas for eighty miles. Eagle Rock, the Arrowhead. Mountain, the canon view from Lookout Point, the view from Camp Horn,-such names as Canon Diablo, Four Peaks (which rise to a great height and dominate the entire territory), Whirlpool Rock, the Little Alps, Black Canyon, Fish Creek Canyon, and the already mentioned Superstition Mountains, scene of the Apaches' last stand-these suggest some few of the dramatic perspectives comprised. The famous early mining camp of Goldfield is passed, and one thinks of quick-shooting sheriffs, cowboys and desperadoes of the early days. On one bowls through the Salt River Valley sprinkled first with giant cacti and white-flowering yuccas, and then with orange and date groves, luxuriant alfalfa, and occasional fields of cotton, or ostrich farms. This valley is well irrigated and continuously fruitful. Throughout the Apache Trail trip one attains to altitudes (beyond Pinal, near Globe, and again beyond Cape Horn) of 3,700 and 3,470 feet. Wonderful panoramas lie below. In the former instance the Sierra Ancha and Mazatzal Ranges, previously spoken of as historic, are embraced by the vision. And near Cape Horn all the northeastern country extends in open view. Midway from Globe to Roosevelt the elevation is almost 4,000 feet, and all Arizona seems to "swim into our ken," shimmering with color and gemmed far-off by the turquoise of Roosevelt Lake. Wild flowers tapestry the mountains with vivid patterns. At other points the contrast of the greenery irrigated by the lake with the tawny slumbering desert is especially striking. Nearer the lake, where the roadway overhangs its expanse, the entire mountainous horizon to the north is reflected in the mirroring waters. The luncheon stop is made at the lodge on Roosevelt Lake, between its east and west branches. Here one may stay longer at moderate expense, visiting the cliff dwellings, or trolling for black bass with which the lake is well stocked by the Government. The Apache Trail auto trip can be made most conveniently-and it affords a most pleasant diversion-on one's way to or from California. At El Paso a through sleeper is attached to the Sunset Limited. -America's oldest and most famous transcontinental train-operating over the Sunset Route of the Southern Pacific Lines between New Orleans and San Francisco. This sleeper arrives at Globe, Arizona, the eastern terminus of the Apache Trail, at 7:35 A. M., and, after a comfortable breakfast in the Southern Pacific's new restaurant, the automobile is taken for the trip over the Trail. The time consumed by the auto trip from Globe to Phoenix is about ten hours, and connection is made at Phoenix with sleeper, which arrives at Los Angeles the following morning. The additional cost for this trip is $15.00. Eastbound passengers arrive at Phoenix in a through sleeper in the morning, leaving immediately after breakfast for Globe, where connection is made with through sleeper, which arrives at El Paso the following morning on the eastbound Sunset Limited. For historical interest, grandeur of surroundings, and an understanding of contemporary American enterprise, this trip is unique. The Apache Trail links America's most romantic past with a present of infinite potentiality. A trip through its multicolored landscape is the experience of a lifetime! APTAIN GRAHAM, the recruiting officer, inwardly pleased but outwardly noncommittal, surveyed apprais ingly the wind-tanned, goodhumored face of the tall recruit, and demanded his name, his occupation, his address, next of kin, and such other particulars as go toward filling out an enlistmentblank. The recruit, it appeared, had no next of kin and no permanent place of abode, and on the official records his name and occupation were set down as Bolton, Jake, trapper and woodsman. The rank and file of the First Colonials, who respect no official record save the pay-roll, paid no attention to this, but hailed him as "Hippo," because of his two hundred and thirty pounds. He took his place easily in the First Colonials. He was a crack shot, since much of his livelihood had depended on his skill with a rifle, and learning to shoot had come to him as unconsciously as learning to walk to ordinary children. All his twenty-five years had been spent in the forest, and all his sustenance had been wrung from it. Hunting had given him the training of a scout, lumbering had developed muscles of steel in a frame of iron, and danger and exposure he took as måtters of course. For a soldier no better material could be desired. The doctors found him organically faultless and his eyesight abnormally keen, and passed him as "fit." So Captain Graham, prophesying that in three months he could n't be told from a regular, detailed him to his own beloved B Company, and noted his name as good material for a non-commissioned officer. "That man," he remarked to Lieutenant Townsend, "is bound to make good." "Making good in the army," said Lieutenant Townsend, "depends entirely on how you get started. It's a case of give a dog a bad name, and you hang him." "I go by a man's eyes," replied the captain. "That man has character enough in those straightforward eyes of his to live. down any bad name he can ever acquire." When the preliminary sorting out and posting had been completed, the First Colonials crossed the ocean and went into intensive training under canvas with their fellows at Salisbury Plain. In the beginning Jake justified Captain Graham's prophecy; his behavior was excellent during the first month or two. After that, however, the monotonous discipline of military life began to pall upon his free spirit. Then it was that his downfall began and that he acquired a new nickname. To the First Colonials he was thenceforth known as "Name and Number." |