Arizona Highways, January 1952

              There are many definitions of tranquillity. It might be described in one
·way as one being at peace in Nature's world around and about. It comes to
the sailor on the placid seas; it comes to the mountain man, surrounded by
the green and serene forests. It comes to the dweller in the desert land.
Here is distance and stillness and peace. A few miles down the road
may be the busy city with its hurry and turbulence. Here there is quiet, the
land unchanged and in many ways unchangeable. There is here only the
marks of the sun, of the fitful wind, of the changing seasons which represent
the errant notations of time's dreamy passing.
vVhen you live in a big land, but not over-populated, just a few min­utes'
drive and there you are: in the tranquil world of Nature. If you make
your peace with that world you have attained man's most desirable state
of being: tranquillity.
If all the people in Arizona were crowded into one city (750,000 last
census) _vou ,1 ould hardly have enough to form a commendable suburb of a
large Eastern city. Yet you could lose a handful of Eastern states in the square
miles that form Arizona and have enough left over to swallow the state of
Illinois. T he lonely acres may be the answer to the yearning that is deep
within all of us that sometime, someplace we may be where Nature's handi­work
is unaltered and your companions are the sun, the wind, and the eter­nal
skies ,1 ith their depths of blue at day and their star-filled radiance at
night.
The desert is a place for contemplation and reverie. One might ponder
the inscrutab le ways of the Creator that provide a brave living for the flora
and fauna of the desert that live and survive and even flourish under condi­tions
that could be described, even generously, as harsh. But time and cus­tom
temper all things; so what you see is designed and adapted for the
environment. Therefore, the beholder knows nothing and feels nothing of
the grim struggle for existence to which all living things on the desert have
been subjected before survival has been assured.
Here the boundary of one's world is the shimmering horizon even
beyond where the mountains are nothing more than hazy, purple curtains.
Your world has no boundaries. Your thoughts and dreams and hopes soar
beyond the boundaries of your world and, perhaps, that is the very essence of
tranquillity .... R.C.
FRONT COVER
"SAGUARO IMPRESSIONS" by Esther Henderson. Location: Catalina foothills, near Tucson.
Time: about 7:30 one morning early in June. Camera: SX-7 Deardorff View. Lens: Gocrz
D0gP1ar. Exposure: 1/25th at f.9. Here is a dramatic ,·iew of the Sagu,1ro Blosso111, Ari­zona's
state flower, and the stately Saguaro cactus, largest and most regal of Arizona's
cactus dwellers. ln commenting on this photograph, the photographer says : "It always
sccn,s to n1c that ,1 saguaro has too many blossoms to properly photograph. VVhen this
sparsely blossoming plant was found, the camera was quickly set up. Onlv then did I
notice the other tall, straight saguaro in the background. The appearance of that plant I
felt wou ld add interest to the picture. Because a good wind was coming up and the heavy
arm swayed gently I used a faster exposure than wou ld otherwise ha,·e been desired."
OPPOSITE PAGE
"SPRING OVER PARADISE VAi.LEY" by Lyic Hiner. Location: t he foothills about two miles
north of Carnelback Mountain, looking eastward over Paradise Valley, toward Four Peaks,
not far north of Scottsdale. Ti111e: midafternoon early April; Camera: Burke and James
4x5 Press on Ektachrome daylight. Lens: Ektar f-4-7. Exposure: 1/5th at f.32. "I was
attracted by the scene," says the photographer, "because of the great sweep of the valley
,vhich represents to J11e the great distances that lllake Arizona so fascinating. The
blooming cactus in the foreground, so gay and colorful, added just the right amount of
color to make an interesting picture."
SUNNY STATISTICS : Statistics are something
that most people can take or leave alone. Gen­erally,
we prefer to leave them alone, but
when they are as interestingly presented as
they are in the "Arizona Statistical Review,"
195 1 edition, "compiled, published and dis­tributed
by the Valley National Bank," we
feel they merit more than passing attention.
Here is what we learn statistically about our
state from this interesting review: Arizona
was decade's second fastest growing state:
from 499,261 in 1940 to 749,587 in 1950 or a
total percentage gain of 50.1 as compared to
California's 53.3 percent gain. Arizona racks
second in rate of income growth., from $2 3 7,-
000,000 in 1940 to $935,000,000 ia 1950, or a
percentage gain of :95 percent. This is com­pared
to New Mexico's gain of 303 percent.
Arizona led nation in farm income growth:
from $53,114,000 in 1940 to $275,895,000 in
1950 or a gain of 419 percent. And Arizona
recorded second best gain in passenger car
registrations and was leader of all states in truck
registrations for the decade 1940-50. All of
which says: business is pretty good out this way,
FUN lN THE SUN: If you
plan to come sunward the
next month or two you
might be interested· in
some of the things that
are happening out this
way. Here are dates in the
sun: Jan uary: 1-Indian
Rodeo and Fair, Salt Riv­er
Tribal Agency, Mesa;
1-Fifth annual Salad Bowl Football game and
parade, Phoenix; 2-5, Arizona National Live­stock
Show, Phoenix; February: (Jan. 30-Feb. 3)
Phoenix Open Golf Tournament. 15 - Chicago
Cubs opening spring training at Mesa; 16-17, Sil­ver
Spur Rodeo at Yuma; in late February,
Cleveland Indians begin spring training in Tuc­son
and the N. Y. Giants start training in
Phoenix; 21-24, La Fiesta de Los Vaqueros, Tuc­son's
annual rodeo, as fine a show ,1s you can see
anywhere (get reservations early). March: 21-23,
Phoenix \Vorld Champion ship Rodeo. In be­tween
these dates there is a lot doing in al-
111ost c,-erv town in the sun land, which, of
cou rse, is ·as it should be what with a lot of
sun to do things m.
SOMETHING TO READ lN THE
suN: \ iVe recommend "Sav­age
Son," by Oren Arnold,
noted Arizona author. Uni­versity
of New Mexico Press,
$3.50. Tn this book, Arnold
telis the story of Dr. Carlos
iVlontezuma, and a stranger
story, so much the stranger
because it is true, has nc,·cr
been told. Dr. Montezuma was an Apache
Indian captive, sold in shn·ery as a young
boy. Later adopted by white guardians, he
was taken to Chicago, raised in a fine home,
become a prominent doctor, married fashion­ably,
enjoyed every success. Later, when he
became ill w ith tuberculosis, he turned his
back on white man's civilization, returned to
the reservation near Scottsdale, where he died.
\Ve, of ARtZOI\'A HtGHWAYS, take leave of the o ld year and
greet the new year with much for which to be thankful. We are
grateful to the congenial folks at Life and Time Magazines who
thought enough of our pages to speak kindly of us in their issues
of late September. With a combined readership of some 30 million
such mention in these magazines has had a stimulatjng effect on our
subscription rolls, to the ex tent that we start 1952 with the family
of ARrZOl\'A HIGHWAYS larger than it has ever been. With 1952 we
also find ourselves ,veil entrenched on newsstands throughout
th e country, thanks to the interest shown in us by our national
di stributor, the Independent News of New York, and their affil­iated
wholesalers. For a country journal we have been getting
around a lot of late. To our old friends and our new friends we
say Happy Ne,v Year and thanks a million. We hope 1952 will
be a lot of fun for all of us.
Our principal concern this first issue of a new volume is
with that old black magic called Spring. If yo u live in less favored
parts of our country you might wonder why one becomes Spring­happy
in January. Perfectly simple! Spring comes prancing in to
the desert land come February, a right pert and pretty season out
this "\\ ·ay. And maybe if we think hard about Spring we'll forget
colder places like Moscow, where there must never be Spring or
gay bonnets or young poets mooning about birds and new green
leaves and things like that. Spring means to us bad rhymes by
young poets (and God bless 'em), serene skies and a great round
moon, flo" ·ers and bees and the Indians (not the Pimas or Papagos
or Apaches but the Cleveland Indians) unlimbering their arms in
the warm sunshine of Tucson and the Giants (not the supermen of
a dictator cmmtr}' but the plain good old New York Giants of
the good old U. S. A.) warming up in Phoenix to do this year
what they nearly did last year-win the World's Championship.
Ah! Spring! Ah! America'
Our community story this month is one we have been trying
to get together for a long time. It is the story of Scottsdale, a most
remarkable town any way you look at it. Now Scottsdale could
be just a sleepy subt1rb of Phoenix (it is only a couple of hollers
dO\rn the road) but folks there just wouldn't have it that way.
Scottsdale has a personality of her own and a mind of her own.
Come snow time elsewhere and folks just come crowding in to
Scottsdale and environs from almost everyplace to relax and have
fun in the sun. Scottsdale makes the visitors feel at home. Allen
Reed, " ·ho has done some fine chores for this magazine, worked
up the Scottsdale story for us and we think you'll like the town
the wa }' he puts it down on paper and in pictures .
If you are interested in camping ( and w ho isn't") we present
an article telling you all about "Camping Under Winter Skies."
YVintcr camping is one of the advantages one has who lives in
Arizo na. And with the rodeo season starting we think it is timely
to tell you about the training of a good horse or what goes on
"Behind the Rodeo." YVhen we read Frazier and Robert Hunt's
book, "Horses and Heroes," we particularly like the chapter deal­ing
,1 ·ith Father Kino, one of the first who rode this way. Because
we think yo u will like it, we secured permission to reprint it
herein.
All of \\'hich wraps up January. Health and happiness to you
. and you . . and rou for Fifty-two ... R.C.
l' A C E T H I{ E F • A R I Z O I\' A H I G H "\ V A Y S • J A N UAR Y I 9 5 2
A. D.500
I
BY R. 0. ACKERMAN
ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR
T he Winning of the West! What mental images are
conjured up by that magic phrase! A tall figure in fringed
buckskin, with a long rifle and noiseless tread. A creaking
covered wagon, behind a plodding team. A sweat-lathered
pony, pulled to its haunches in a sliding stop. Then, in a
deathly hush that makes time stand still, rwo cold-eyed men
loosen guns in holsters and stalk toward one another ...
slowly . .. slowly ...
The Winning of the West! How much do we actually
know about its fascinating history, and how much is merel>r
legend~ There has been an increasing volume of fact and
fiction thrust upon the American public, until many details
need clarification. The firearms consultant, particularly, has
come to expect certain stock questions:
"What exact weapons did the frontiersmen favor'"
"I-fow did they handle them?" "How fast and how accurate
were they?"
In the rosy glow of romanticism, it is difficult to sepa­rate
the wheat from the chaff. However, certain facts have
been established. We intend to describe the most popular
weapons of each major era, and possibly rectify some of the
standard misconceptions concerning their use.
Prehistoric man's first manufactured weapon was the
stone ;:ix. During the Pioneer Period (A.O. 1· to 500) of
Hohokarn culture in Arizona, the smoothly ground and
grooved ax was in use. Our illustration shows the typical
method of h;:i fting . Later Hohokam axes did not have the
edges of the groove ridged, as this one did.
T he invention of the bow is lost in antiquity, but it was
a highly developed we;:ipon in the year 1000. Arrowheads
were chipped from flint, obsidian and other sharp-flaking
materials, as we have illustrated. These were supplanted by
A.D. 1000
trade arrowheads of iron, upon the advent of the ·white fur­trader.
The first white men to enter our southwest were the
Spaniards. At that time, the sword and pike were still the
regular weapons of the individual soldier. However, these
men did bring crude firearms also. vVhen the conquistadors
of Cortez entered Mexico City in 1519, they dragged with
them several brass cannons. By 1540, when Coronado start­ed
serious exploration of our own south western territory,
the matchlock was standard equipment.
The illustration of a matchlock arquebus shows the
method of ignition employed. The "slow match" was a loose­ly
twisted cord, impregnated with potassium nitrate so that
it would smoulder. This match was held by a lever, the "ser­pentine,"
which dropped the glowing end· into a tiny pan of
gunpowder when the trigger was pulled. The resulting flash ,
through a connecting touchhole, exploded the main charD"e
in the barrel. b
Individual charges of powder ,vere carried in the small
flasks across the arquebusier's chest. Most matchlocks of th is
period had very short, odd-shaped stocks, designed for men
wearing breast plates of armor.
The matchlock was cumbersome, inaccurate, and neces­sitated
constant blowing on the match-end to keep it alight.
It gave way to the wheel lock, which required no match.
In this type of firearm, a serrated wheel was wound up
with a separate key. On release by the trigger, the whe~l
spun against a piece of iron pyrite ("fool's gold") and show­ered
sparks into the pan. Fragile, complicated and slow in
operation, the popularity of the wheel lock was short-lived.
A period of experimentation developed the flintlock
in Europe. The stage was set for the first truly American
firearm. First, let us review the principle which was so effi­cient
as to remain virtually unchanged for 300 years.
The flintlock's hammer, or cock, contained the chisel­edged
flint. The steel, or frizzen, also served as a hinged cov­er
for the powder pan. The flint struck the steel, uncover­ing
the powder just as the sparks fell into it. Occasionally
the resulting flash failed to igni te the main charge, hence
our expression "a flash in the pan" for big plans which do
not materialize.
Our frontier gunsmiths redesigned the European flint-
1540
_ _:..----
lock to Getter serve the needs of a different environment.
The caliber was reduced to about -45. Barrels were made
longer and stocks slimmer. Improved rifling and methods of
lo;:iding were evolved.
The result was the famous Kentucky Rifle. Its accuracy
and range made it for superior to the smooth-bore muskets
of the period.
This feature helped us to ,vin our War of Independ­ence.
Again in 1 8 r 5, behind the cotton bales of New Or­leans,
the Kentucky was the deciding factor ,vhich brought
victory. Meanwhile, in the hands of such trailblazers as
Boone and Kenton, this slender rifle had led the way in the
first great push westward.
Environment has always influenced weapon design.
\Vhen the frontier passed the Mississippi, it entered the
plains country. At this point the pioneer became a horse­man,
and the Kentucky underwent further changes.
To permit loading on horseback, the barrel was short­ened.
For the heavier game now encountered, the caliber
was increased to around . 54. Thus was born the popular
"plains rifle."
Thousands of these were produced in Pennsylvania,
traditional birthplace of the Kentucky Rifle in earlier years.
St. Louis, jumping-off place for wagon trains, also became
the site of many gun-shops.
A great number of plains rifles were cheaply turned out
for trading to the Indians. These can now be easily identi­fied
by three features. They were usually quite devoid of en­graving
or similar refinements. Cracked stocks were invari­ably
mended with rawhide. Also, they were promptly orna­mented
with rows of brass trade tacks.
The percussion lock was developed early in the
nineteenth century. Substituting a tiny mercuric fulminate
cap for the earlier flint-and-steel, this system paved the way
for both the breech-loader and the repeater which followed.
It remained, however, for the needs of the Civil War to
hasten their development.
Many plains rifles were made with percussion locks,
but they remained muzzle-loaders. This was a popular weap­on
during the gold rush of r 849.
The percussion plains rifle illustrated ,vas owned by
1836
·=
Kit Carson. This was a Hawken rifle, one of the best of that
period.
Let us pause to consider the belt-weapons which were
companion arms to the foregoing rifles. During the flintlock
era, the frontiersmen adopted the tomahawk as a side-arm.
Useful for blazing trail and as a camp tool, this slender
hatchet was also a formidable weapon at close quarters. In
the Smithsonian Institution, in Washington, there is dis­played
the tomahawk of Davy Crockett. With silver head
and carved ivory handle, it would seem rather ornate for
splitting either kindling or skulls.
When Crockett died in the battle of the Alamo, anoth­er
martyr of that heroic defense was Colonel James Bowie.
The bowie knife was designed by his elder brother, Rezin,
but it was "Big Jim" who gave the weapon its undying fame.
Rezin's original bowie knife had a 9 ¼ inch blade. Later
examples varied, some blades being much longer. The one
we have shown had a strip of soft brass in the back edge, to
catch the blow of an opponent's knife. The creature on the
grip was symbolic of Davy Crockett, who claimed he was
"half horse and half alligator, and could whip his weight in
wildcats." Knives of this type were a standard part of fron­tier
dress, just as revolvers became in the next decade.
Odd though it may seem, Samuel Colt's revolvers were
not popular when he first produced them in 1836. They
saw service in the Seminole War and in Texas' fight for in­dependence,
yet Colt's company had repeated setbacks be­fore
the new weapon captured public favor. It was r 848
before the revolver was truly a fixture on the western scene.
It was in this year that Colt produced the percussion
revolver shown. This particular model was a light . 3 1 caliber
weapon which is still known as the "Wells Fargo." It was
issued by the express company of that name to its guards
and messengers.
Colt produced many other percussion models in vari­ous
calibers and barrel lengths. The larger revolvers, with
loading levers attached, were especially popular in the west.
However, when Russell, Majors and Waddell organized the
short-lived "pony express" in r 860, it was still the old Wells
Fargo model which the r 3 5-pound riders usually selected.
The pony express, incidentally, was later taken over by
PAGE FIVE ARIZONA HIGH"\VAYS JANUARY 1952
\\ 'capons phorogrnphcd this p,1gc through courtesy of the author, the Srop ' N ' Swap Store and the Jewel Rox Store, Phoenix, Arizona.
Top: A 'lllilitary whee/lock pistol of , 640 . Left center: A Colt z 860 Army percussion revolver, converted into a .44 breech­loader.
Rip;ht center: An 1849 Colt percussion revolver, sbo-wi11g loading le ver. Lower left: An original .41 percussion deringer,
made by Henry Deri11ger of Pbiladelpbia. This was the exact make, caliber and type '"uJith which Lincoln was assassinated.
Lo-wer rip;ht: A R emiugton .41 breech-loading "derringer" of the standrrrd type so popular in earlier days, a deadly, little weapon.
the \N ells Fargo Company. Our illustration is historicall y ac­curate
of the saddle and mochilla, made for \Velis Fargo by
Wyeth of St. Joe.
There is another weapon which history links with this
same express company. When a stagecoach carried bullion
or money in the little green \N ells Fargo box, a special guard
was provided. This task was known as "riding shotgun." The
gun furnished for the purpose was a conventional double­barrelled
shotgun of large gauge. The barrels had been
shortened to increase the spread of shot at very close range.
With nine buckshot in each barrel, this was a lethal weapon
which few highway men would care to face. There was a
rapid turnover in shotgun messengers, for they often were
shot from ambush as a preface to that time-honored order,
"Throw down the box!"
No discussion of these earlier weapons would be com­plete
without mention of the derringers. These were ex­treme]:-,
, compact little pistols of large caliber-vest pocket
weapons vvhich still had the power of a much larger gun.
Originated by Henry Deringer of Philadelphia, all similar
type pistols came to be known as derringers (with two R's).
These little pistols were universally popular. Gamblers
favored them, as did women also. Frontier marshals and out­laws
alike carried them as a reserve weapon. They were
generally either single-shot or double-barrelled, and both
muzzle- and breech-loading types were produced. The stand­ard
caliber was -41, with few exceptions.
Incidentally, of the three United States presidents as­sassinated,
both Lincoln and McKinley were shot with der­ringers.
The weapon used in President Garfield 's murder
was a .44 caliber British Bulldog revolver, which Guiteau
purchased for ten dollars.
Wild Bill Hickok carried a derringer for many years
as an extra "hide-out." This was a Williamson single-shot
.41 which could be used either as rim-fire breech-loader or
as percussion muzzle-loader, h_v using a n auxiliary chamber.
Harper's Ferry musket, courtesy of the Stop 'N' Swap Store, Phoenix. Other pieces are from the author's collection.
At top is shown a Harper's Ferry dated 1816 fiintlock musket, ca rried by early trailblazers. Second fronz top: A percussion
double-barreled shotgun of the type favored by Tifl ells Fargo messengers. For stagecoach use, the barrels were generally short­ened.
Center: The Remington rolling-block .50 rifie, popular in Bill Cody's day. Fourth fro111 top: An 1873 Springfield .45-70
carbine, made famous by Custer's Seventh Cavalry and by Geroninzo's Apaches. Bottom: Cavalry saber of the same period.
The heavy, single-shot, Sharps buffalo rifles also with­stood
the transition to breech-loading. The later models
were more popular than ever, for a few years. Gradually,
however, they gave way to the lever-action repeating rifles .
The first of these to gain renown in the west was the
Henry, a -44 rim-fire with full-length magazine. It was said
of this rifle that it could be "loaded on Sunday and fired all
week." The Winchester company took over the Henry pat­ent,
and their present lever-action is still the standard deer
rifle of the region.
In 187 3, Winchester introduced the center-fire lever­action
rifle illustrated. This is the famous Model '73 that
leaped again into the limelight within the past year. The en­tire
plot of a Jimmie Stewart motion picture was woven
around this weapon's romantic story. More recently, this
rifle was named the "gun of the year" for 195 1. Certain
specimens were especially chosen for accuracy by the fac­tory,
at the time of manufacture. Any Model '7 3 so desig-nated
now commands an unbelievable price from collectors.
Winchester manufactured this rifle in -44-40, . 3 8-40,
. 32-20 and .2 2 calibers. The first of these enjoyed the great­est
demand, and this became the standard cartridge of the
west.
An ?dd mutilation was occasionally performed on early
lever-act10n saddle guns. The lever-loop was replaced with
a larger one, round rather than oblong. This permitted the
mechanism to be operated without the aid of the left hand.
The lever was flipped very rapidly, while inertia momentari­ly
held the released rifle. With a fractions horse to manage,
this could be a distinct advantage. However, it was not a gen­eral
practice.
Another widely used Model 1873 was the Springfield
army rifle of that year. The cavalry carbine version met with
particular favor. This rugged little .45-70 single-shot was
the issue weapon at the time of Custer's massacre. It was
also a great favorite with Geronimo's Apaches. Many of
PAGE SEVEN ARIZONA HIGH,VAYS JA:>;C A RY 1952
1849
these riAes arc still in use, and modern ammunition is avail­able
for them.
Third of the \videly famed models of 1873 was the re­volver
which is considered synonymous with the western
gunfighter. The Colt Single-Action Armv Revolver was
adopted by the frontier like nothing befo~e or since. This
was originally produced in .45 caliber, with 7 ½ inch barrel,
for Orclnanceissue to troops. Custer's Seventh Cavalry troop­ers
each carr ied one of these weapons, with 18 rounds of
ammunition, in addition to his carbine.
Immediately popular with civilians, this was soon fol­lowed
by other calibers and barrel lengths. Colt made a
brilliant move hv chambering this model for the same cart­ridges
used in the Winchester '73 . In .45 caliber it became
known as the "Peacemaker." In the "\i\Tinchester calibers it
\\ ·as called the "Frontier Six Shooter." Of the manv nick­names
earned by this firearm, a few were "hou leu/ "plow
handle" and "cutter." b b
Our illustration shows the widelv publicized art of fan­ning
a single-action Colt. Bracing tl{e gun-hand auainst the
hip while holding the trigger pressed, the hanfiner was
~lapped back repeatedlv with the edge of the other palm.
fh1s could not be done with a double-action revolver.
. Though admittedly a ver_v rapid ,1 ay co spray lead, fan­rnng
,1 as ch1eAv a showy stunt. Such authorities as W vatt
Earp and Bat i\i!asterson; writing in later life, have told us
that it was seldom resorted to in a serious gun fight. Further­more,
Jts effect on the notches engaging the cvlinder bolt
11 ould have been disastrous. ·
A more practical speed method was used bv several
of the better known gun-artists. The single-action ·colt was
transformed into a "s lip-hammer" revo lver bv the removal
or taping back of the trigger. The knurling ,vas filed from
the hammer. In practice, the hammer ,1·as caught by the joint
of the thumb (not the ball) and cocked bv throwing down
the muzzle tm1 ard the intended taruet. The weiuht of the
barrel aided in rapid cocking. Just ~s the muzzli lined up,
the hammer 11 as allowed to slip from beneath the thumb.
Aiming was as instinctive as pointing the finger.
Another legend that dies hard is that of hip-shooting.
Our common sense, our modern combat traininu, and the
evidence of old-timers all combine to discount this mvth,
_\'Ct it persists. The gunslinger 11 as much more likeli to
hold his revolver out in front of his body, anywhere between
eye level and waist leve . ·
As for filing off the sights, it would merely have made
the gun useless for longer ranges. Our FBI experts h,wc
~1ev~r experienced trouble with ordinary round sights catch­mg
m holsters. Also, the Colt factory has in its records an
order from Bat Masterson, for special sights on his .45. Since
J\ilr. Masterson was a healthy newspaper editor years after
the last bad man had been planted in the last boot hill, the
logical assumption is that he was always as fast with that gun
as the occasion demanded.
Space will not permit a lengthy listing of "favorite
guns," but we will name a fevv.
lVIasterson's, already mentioned, was a .45 Colt Sinule­Action
with stubby 4 ¾ inch barrel. W yatt Earp usu~ll v
,1·ore two of this same caliber. The left one was a Peace­maker
with 7 ½ inch barrel, the right had a 1 2 inch barrel.
Known as a "Buntline Special," this Colt had been made to
order and presented to him. Doc Holliday definitely did not
lug a shotgun everywhere with him, according to testimony
of his friends . His pet was a nickel-plated . 3 8 double-action
Colt, though he did carry additional artillery on special oc­casions.
Billy the Kid had small hands, and preferred his -41
Colt double-action to the .44-40 he sometimes used. Butch
Cassidy favored the Colt .44-40 Frontier with 7 ½ inch bar­rel.
Wild Bill Hickok gained his fame with two ivorv­gripped
Colt 1851 Navy . 36's, retained it with two Peace­makers,
and died with a Smith & Wesson tip-up .32 rim-fire
revolver in his pocket. His favorite derringer was previouslv
described. ·
As for accuracy of the old guns, a study of Ord11ance
tests throughout the years would put a rapid end to that
controversv. Accurate firearms did not develop suddenlv
and overnight. It was a gradual but very steady process.
Each decade saw improvement over the preceding one,
and each decade will continue to do so. Suffice it to say
that from a very early time, men have engaged in competi­tive
shooting. If their guns had been incapable of hitting
where aimed, would our forefathers have wasted precious
powder; Another significant fact is that several records
made in the days of black powder have yet to be broken. It
ma_v be some time before they are, since men are no longer
so well trained.
P ,\ (; E F I (; f-1 T A I( l './, 0 :\ A 1-l I G f-1 \\'A Y S .J .'\ :\ l-' .\ I( y I 9 ) 2
1873
Concerning the men behind the guns, these were of
,videly different types. A study of their personal habits is
enlightening. Doc Holliday drank heavily-Wyatt Earp
never drank until he was forty. Again, Earp was never
known to practice with guns in his life-Hickok practiced
constantly. Hickok was prone to shoot on the slightest prov­ocation-
Masterson only as a last resort. Yet all of these had
one thing in common. They religiously observed the code of
the "even break" which Billy the Kid did not. Each observed
it for a different reason--Earp, because of magnificent self­confidence-
Masterson, because anything less would have
'l873
conflicted with his personal ethics-Hickok, because he was
sufficiently an egotist to fear public ridicule-Holliday, be­cause
he lived for the thrill of gambling, and what greater
gamble could there be than that?
So it goes-all types and all temperaments-big men
and small-good men and bad. Don't sell them short­vvhatever
else they may have been, they were men! They
were the logical product of their time arid environment, and
they made possible the land we live in today. Let us neither
condone nor condemn, but merely doff our Stetsons with a
soft "Adios, caballeros."
A comparison of the latest and the earliest in Colt pistols. The modern .22 target automatic, at top, is sho7.vn 7.vith one of the
extremely rare Colt "Paterso11" models. Made at Paterson, N.J., from 1836 to 1842, these '"c::ere the first revol,;ers to come west.
l
' o\vdy, p !rdner! D j d you say yo u are .travel­ing
west? '\Nell, t ake time 01:it for a moment
to plant yo ur feet square on the ground of
" T he West's J\l[ost vV estern Town." ,T h at's
th e claim of Scottsdale, Arizona, h er self­styled
theory being, "You can go farther
; west but y ou can 't go f u rther."
1-J er picturesque west.em motif, amply bedecked in
adobe · a nd pa n eled in k notty pine, is cinched dow1: tig_ht to
the back of mother eart h at a place w h e r e nature 1s m ighty
kind, if a wonderful cli mate, fertile land, and raw desert
b eauty are to be considere d.
Thmwh she h as b ee n h ere quite a w h ile , she m atured
I b l . I A. slow] y and was content to s ee p m ti e warm _ n z ona s un-s
hine. for h er first fifty years surro unded b y d esert and culti­v,
1ted fi elds like a lazv kitc n drowsing on a patchwork quilt.
Then suddenly, as if stu ng b y a bee, she got up an d went
place,;, and fiv e year s later she's st ill goin', with the end not
i n sight.
No one seems to know for su re just how t h e new era
came abo ut, but t h e ini tia l s park mi g h t well have been the
group of artists and craftsmen ·who c h ose Scottsdale as an
ideal loca t io n in ·w hic h to live and work. The rest can b e
ch arged off to community prid e a nd coo perati on and a sud­d
e n realization tha t t he town was located in the very heart
of one of the west's most popular an d exclusive w inter res ort
areas, where winter v is itors were coming each season by the
thousan ds. H e re t h ey \1 ·er e se e king t he rela'.' e d simplicity of
western li ving as they rode the dese rt trails and sang to the
rnoon around c h u c k ·wagon fires und er clear Arizona skies .
If it was the west they ·wan ted th en Scottsda le would give it
to them. As a resul t her knotty pine store fronts, rustic si gns,
western names, p eele d pine porticos apd hi.tching rails make
her appear' at first glance to b e a movie se t for an old time
western. But sh e's not. just a rmv of false fronts, sl~s 11eal
and so li d and is hu.il t that way beca u se t hat's the way folks
around here like to live and it's j\[st the kind of place wher e
the w inter visitor likes to come; The western at111ospher e
pulls t hem back season after season an d they bring thei r
frie nds and th eir friends' friends and soon they settle dow n
o n a lot or a fe\1 · acresJn spacious P aradise V all ey, north of
town to make Scottsdaie their home.
Paradise VaUey sp orts all kinds of h omes, from the
small subdivision t ype t o luxurious private estates . T l:er e
seems to b e an appeal about the place for everyone from J USt
plain ." J o hn Public" to well-known p ersonalities who c~10o~e;,0
co have t h eir homes here above anywhere e l se. To the ScottS- i,
dale Post O ffice comes mail for such notable nam es as Frank ,r40
Lloyd Wright, w orld ren_own e d architect, Raymond R9~,i-0
cam of Y omw and Rub1carn, one of the great nam.es m .
advertising, celei:>rated au thor, Clarence Budington Kdlarid ,
and Fowler lVIcCormick, a b yword in farm im p len1,,ents . .
These are but a few·, for vou could s tand o n Cameiback
M ountain and look out ove/ Paradise Valley at a wide array
of lilomes and estates belonging to scores of • prom inent
a rtists, craftsm en, and other persons who came to S cottsd ale
to work m ake their winter h ome or to re tire . A ll around y ou
could se~ as well the popular r es orts that first attrac t e d tf1ese
persons here such as Carnelback ln!1 , Pa1?dise Inn, R oyal
P al ms, Casa Blanca an d many others mcludmg dude ranches.
Below would be The Ari zona Country C lub with its in­v
iting· oTeen trees and o-o lf course, a n d nearbv yo u could see tJ tJ • •
the Ing leside Tl'trf Club where winter season horse ra c ing i~
enjoyed. A ll a r qund Sco ttsdale: y o~1 w~uld,,see acres and acres
of irrigated land under . cu l t1 vat1on 111 cott?n, alf~lfa ? nd .
soro·hu m. You would see date groves a nd citrus and vme­yards,
a ll roote~ in a,, vigorous d esert soil and sippii?g w atef
from the Arizo11a Canal north o f town . Before you would' be
fan~1s and rancl~es d1 ~Toted to raisii1g pr ize dai iv heJ"dS, b);eef'
ca ttle, Arabiani1or~es, ai~d other lives~ ck spec\ <1.lties. .~.
If y<;m loo k t hroug h tp.e to:wn 1t~elf 1 a1~ pause f or
a \, ·hi le in th e shade of the woode p a,vnm g s that cove r t h e
'
I
sidewalks yo u will likely see in the p assing p a rade, horse­drawn
Ind i an wagons in fro m the near b y S alt R iver a nd M c­Dowell
Indian Rese r vation s as much at h ome on Scottsdale's
m ain streets a s a tourist 's shiny new s t atio n wagon . Sit down
o n a hitching r ail, t her e's one in fro nt of every stor e, a nd you
w on't be there long ' tilt someone rides casuaily by o n ho.rse­b
ack going ab out h is business . And there w ill be n umerous
pickup trucks in fro m the ranc hes w ith n ames and brands on
their doors and an occasional horse trailer hi tch ed on b ack.
If you will read sig n s, you 'll k n ow y ou are ou t wes t . Y ou
w ill n ote es pecially that lots of fol k s out h ere like to d ress
w estern and i t m ak es little difference if i t ' s in fad ed b lu e
sh irt , jea ns an d tired squaw b oot s or si lk shirt, finest gabar­d
ine ranch p an ts r ight d own to sh iny b oots and silver spurs.
I t 's ju st a m atter o f p ersonal taste r ather than p ocketbook,
but ric h or p oor , ev eryo ne owns a m illion dollars' worth of
sunshine an d relaxed w es t ern livin' .
N o w don ' t g et t he idea t hat Scottsdale is b a ckward or
la cking in fine cult ure. For not only d oes it have a w estern
culture a ll its o w n but it h as an enviable cult ura l p lac e in the
, .vorld o f education, arts, craf ts a nd fa s hion that would be
difficult to surpass. T h e unusu al p roducts of S cottsd ale's
s killed artists and c raftsm en are sought after by the most
e x clusive merchandise ou tlets from N e w York 's Fi fth A ve­nue
t o Ho ll y woo d . T h e n atio n 's l e ading fa sh io n p ublications
h:we f eatured Scottsdale artis a ns in many p raising a rticles .
E a c h win ter one of t h e t rade' s larg est and most complete
fashion shows is h eld out-of-do ors r ig ht d 0\n1 t he center
o f Sc ottsd ale's m ain street in the pleasant d esert s u nshine on a
specia l 500 foot r amp. For this sh ow models, d esig ners, b uy-
ers, fashion w riters and photographers come all t he way
fro m New York's mid-winter shive r s, ·wit h the lat es t in
fas hion, to participate.
T h ere are two bas ic ty p es of s ho ps in Scottsdale . I n one
group th e arti sts and c raftsmen feature th eir ow n originals
and creations while t he seco nd type a r e shops th at retai l
r eady -m ade merchandi se from a va r iety o f so urces. If w e
were to stroll a t ra ndom into some o f t he shops an d s t ud ios
of t h e fir st group, for example The W hite Hoga n, we w ou ld
see Kenneth Begay and Allen Lee, master Nava jo sil ver­smith
s, creating a w ide variety o f treasured master pieces in
sterlin g . Or we mig ht ste p into th e studio-shop of Christine ,
Rae to look over her hand scr een ed tex ti l e des igns in wh ich
she incorporates the wonderful colors of Arizo na 's m oun­tains
and deserts fo r wom e n to enjoy ever y w here . We could
visit n ext door an d ma rvel at the graceful sy mbolic N a va jo
artistry in the r emarka ble ironwork of Edward Lee Nat ay
a nd t he fin e, colorful India n pain tings of Pop Cha lee. Or a
few blocks away we could visit George Cavalliere in his
blacksmith shop as he stands at an anvil by hi s c harcoal fo r ge
in a shower of sparks doing won derful t hings w ith orna­mental
iron. We coul d visit the Craftsma n Center just north
of tow n on Scottsd ale road and there see more fin e, modern
silver and gold artistry in th e shop of Wesley Segner a~1d
w hile there we m ig h t look in on N avajo a r ti st And y Ts1h ­n
ah jinnie engrossed in hi s painting. W hile at t h e Cr aftsman
Cen ter it woul d be a must to see t h e leath er work of Lloy d
Kiva w hos e h a nd ha gs and lithe r c r eations ar e recogniz e d
by fas hi o n conscious people a ll over the world. And when
in Scottsdale we sho uld visit Phillips Sanderso n, mast er
craftsman whose b ea utiful third dimen si onal murals, carvings
and mosaics ar e to be seen in prominent places throughout
Arizona. Gem cu tter, leather worker, p otter, tinsm i th , b lock
printer, textile pai nter, there are ma ny more crafts and
ski lled craftsmen than can be covered here and all are co n­trib
uting to Scottsdale 's fast bec oming on e of the lead ing
craftsmen centers of t he ,vest.
If we were to likewise brow se t hrough a cross se ctio n o f
the second type of shops w hich specia li ze in merchan dising
rather than craft creation we would d iscover one mor e reaso n
for Scottsdale's attr ac tion. Stepping int o Craig H o us e for ex­am
ple, cater ers to m en w ho don 't want to play cowboy w hen
visiting the southw es t, is like steppi ng into so m eone's fa sh­ionable
p arlor with imported English tweeds, cashm ere
sw eaters, accessories, antiq u es and collec t ors items taste fully
pla ced ab out the well-ap pointed int erior. O ur hosts wou)d
be the Morton fa m ily, of the famous salt fi r m. Craig
House started as a r e tired man' s h obb y and immediately
became an immensely popular shop w here gentlem e n w ith
exclusive t aste rni o-ht select from the unusual st o c k su ch
items as nine hund~·ed dollar sport jackets of material made
from the breast fur of the rar e A ndes Vicuna, o r perhaps
their eye mi ght be c aught b y the g raceful D olphin G lass­war
e of Empress E lizabeth of Austria o_r sh irts o~ :aw silk
fro m Honan province, China. If y ou , v1she d to v1s1t a fi ne
dis play of Mexican arts and crafts you would surely be most
pleased to stop into _t he Trading P ost gift sh op and g:a ll ery
to c hat with conge111al Leo and Buck Saunders, p ropnetors.
Buck is a most cap ab le artist in h is own rig ht. In there we
would also fin d anot her sil versmith, M orris R obins on, Hopi
Indian craft sman. We wouldn't w a nt to miss P orter's p ic ­turesque
Scottsdale branch o f one of Arizo n a' s oldest a nd
best known western attire and accessor y stores, nor Gold­waters'
most attractive Scottsdale branch and the rest of the
R anch House Shops. There are many m ore equally uniq ue
an d outstanding i n th eir own special way a nd wit h the 195 r-
CHRISTINE RAE
TEXTILES
52 season sti ll more of the prominent Phoenix stores will
have branches in Scottsdale.
On the educational side of the Scottsda le scene, r efer­ring
once more to culture and art, not onh· do es Scottsdale
have a fine modern public sc hool system but th ere are ex­ce
llent private schools and educational studio s to h e taken
into account. For girl s there is Brownmoor, and there is J nd­son
School for boys, both from first through twelfth grades.
North of town in Paradise Valley is the Desert School of Art
wit h spacious studio -workshops w h ere exhibits are held fo r
the public and in which classes are conducted in drawing,
pai nting and ceramics for pleasure or profession under the
able direction of painter Lew Davis an d scu lptress Mathi lde
Schaefer Davis. The fine paintings of Lew and the splendid
ceramic and sculptured pieces created by Mathilde are also
very much in demand by the winter visitor and collector.
Anothe r most popular phase of Scottsdale culture is a mod­er
n sc hool of ballet and dance workshop under the direction
of Ruth Sussman, formerly of the School of American Ballet
in New York. This Scottsdale studio is for the purpose of
instrncting dancers in the technique of classic ballet and to
encourage physical and mental flexibility toward o ther dance
forms . Also located in Paradise Valley is the studio of Forrest
Thornburg, coach of ballet and relig-ious dances. Mr. Thorn­burg,
a member of The Chicago National Association of
Dancing Masters, also conducts once a month at his work­shop
an experimental studio theatre program in dancing and
all the related arts in which winter visitors of Scottsdale ac­tive
ly participate.
Of course along with all these unusual business enter­prises
unique for a little western town, there are the usual
markets, drug stores, garages, barbershops, etc. that one finds
in every community. However most evervone in Scottsdale
has joi1ied in 011 the western harmony theme.
So there you have a bit of Scottsdale, carved out of the
desert, today's progressive town dressed in the garb of yes­t
e rday's old west. She has a lot to be thankful for and t o be
proud of, in her climate and ideal scenic location, h er man}·
church es of all denominations, her fine schools both publi c
:111d private, her civic cooperation, her mantle of farms and
ranches, h er artists and craftsmen, h er comfortable homes
and fine estates, her doctors, la wyers, merchants, ranchers,
Indians and winter visitors. And though Scottsdale is located
right next door to Arizona's ca pital city, the town is not
thought of as a Phoenix suburb for it has a complete per­so
nality all its own.
Scottsdale was named after Chaplain Winfield Scott,
w h o in 189 5 purchased 160 ac re s where Scottsdale no,\·
sta nd s. Thankful for the wonderful climate and home he had
found, h e encouraged many early settlers in Arizona, espe­cially
those who were sick, to put up tents on his ranch and
li ve ·there until the_v cou ld regain their health or build homes.
In Scottsdale h e had a visio n of a great and large community,
,rnd when he comp lete d hi s work on earth in 19w he be­q
ueathed to the people of Scottsdale a prophecy in his \\·ill,
a section of w hi ch follows.
"My D e::ir Neighbors and Friends:
I leave to you my \\·ork in Scottsdale. If vou take this
work and do ·it , and° en large it as God gives yo u strength,
you will receive rn!' blessing and His, the blessing which
maketh rich, and God addeth no sorrow w ith it."
On e glance toda? at the ph enomenal boom of "The
West's Most Modern Town" as it takes great strides into
the future is rather co n vin c ing that Scottsdale was named
after not only a worth y man, but one of much foresight.
On the f aci77g page are some of Scottsdale's many artists
and craftsmen 7..Vith examp les of their original creations.
The adaptation of Native Indian Crafts into high
fashion is accomplished in the Lloyd Kiva Shop.
Craig House was desig;ned as a gracious camally
elegant shoppers' oasis specializing in rare imports.
Studio Suzette, creators of the latest in modern
interiors for homes and estates of Paradise Valley.
Th e Trading Pos t , a splendid example of the many
imeresting and uniqu e Scottsdale gift shops.
PHOTO B'f KARL REICHEL
The U ni versity of California
Press, Berkeley 4, C:1lifornia,
anno unces publication of
''A rizo na Flora" by the emi­nent
\N cstcrn botanists,
Thomas H. Kearney and
Robert H. Peebl es. "Arizona
Flora," 1032 pages, ~7.50, is
a masterfu l presentat ion of
,1 1! plant life found in the
sr,1tc. Herc is a sc holarly and sc ient ific guide
w hi ch rep rese nts yea rs of srudy and r esearc h,
and will prove a va luable referen ce for th e visi­tor
who wis hes to acq uire more than a superfi c ial
acqua in ta nce with the stra nge and fami liar
pbnts t h,n n1akc the Arizona landscape so in ter­esting.
T he presentat ion may pro,·c too techn i­ca
l at first for the beginner, hut will be more
than rewarding to the interested stud ent w illing
to spend time in t he study of its pages. "Arizona
Flora" is a b ig book, covering in deta il a big
subject.
P AGE S I X T FF:sl
Spring is the gay season. No man of his allotted age
of three scor e and ten can possibly fail to glory in the
coming of the new spring in his life, bringing with it the
change in the weather and the surge of life in the plants
of the earth. Spring is the season that sends poets to the_
inkpots and madly scrambling to the dictionaries for the
bright, new adjective to describe the bright, new season.
Spring is a time of the sprouting of bulbs, the germi­nation
of seeds, the unfolding of buds and the breaking
into bloom of flowers. It is a time that man has celebrat­ed
with festivals and cer emony as long as history has
been recorded. The advent of spring has never ceased to
be a cause for wonder and admiration. The change from
the dormant, gui escent state in which plants spend the
winter, to the state of full growth and activity found in
t he spring takes place with amazing rapidity and often
with magnificent di splays of delicate and colorful beauty.
The world in w hich we live takes on its most wondrous
appearance in spring, and if we ourselves are a little bit
giddy with all that is happening around us we are merely
in step with the season, for spring is just a little bit giddy
herse lf.
Spring is, indeed, one of the great miracles of all cre­ation,
a miracle that makes this old world of ours such a
pleasant place to live in. Spring is Nature's floorshow.
Spring comes at different times in different places.
The advent of spring in any particular region depends
largely on the plants which arc present. Some plants pro­duce
leaves and flo wers before the snows have completely
left the ground. Others do not attain the full flu sh of
growth and flowering until the middle of late summer.
The spring with w hich we are concerned fo llows winter
and the miracle of our spring, very simple in a way, is
the breaking of the dormancy in plants and the annual
guiesccnt period ty pical of plant life. In general, factors
that brought about that dormancy consist of environ­mental
conditions which singly or in combination were
unfavorable to plant growth . Extremes of temperature
lead to the dormancy of plants. Either the cold of the
northern regions or the heat of the desert induces dor­mancy.
Likewise lack of ·water leads to dormancy. Also
CENTER PANEL
"oco-r1r.r,o LAN DSCA PE" By Chuck Abbott. Location: rolling hills of
t he Twin Butte area, Tucson . Time: 3 p.m. in early May. Camera:
5x7 Deardorff View. Lens: Gocrz Dngrnar. Exposure: , /25th at f.11 .
The ocotillo (oh-coe-tee-yo), with its gay, scarlet blossoms, is one of
the most handsome of all plants in the Arizona desert during spring.
OPPOSITE PAGE
"YUCCAS IN THE W IN D" By Bill Sears. Locat ion: along U .S. Highway
666 in t he Su lphur Springs Valley. Time: midaftcrnoon in Jun e. Cam­era:
4x5 Busch Pressman with E ktachrome. Lens: 6- in ch Elnar. Ex­posure:
, /5oth at f. 8. T he Yucca (yah-cah) in bloom, with gr eat,
w hite clu sters of blossoms, is a memorable sight for tra ve lers through
the desert areas of Arizona.
AR IZONA HIGH\VAYS JAl\ U/\ RY 1 95 2
OPPOSITE PAGE
"Picacho Peak"
BY HUBERT A. LOvVMAN
A landmark in the desert.
"Canyon Lake" BY ARLE:\'E RAGSDALE
Flaming torches of Spring. FOI LOWING PANEL
"Arizona in Spring"
BY CHUCK ABBOTT
Ocotillo in bloom.
"Springtime - Baboquivari"
BY CHUCK ABBOTT
"Spring Clouds and Desert Road" BY FSTHER HENDERSON
"Palo Verde Wash - Near Florence" BY CHUCK ABBOTT
"suNsET IN YUCCALANo" by Chuck Abbott. Location:
yucca knolls near the \Vhetstone Mountains in the vi­cinity
of Benson. Time: sunset in early June. Camera:
4x5 Graphic View. Lens: Schneider Angulon. Exposure:
1/5th at f.14. In commenting on this photograph, Chuck
Abbott says: "Th e photographers can usually find the
material, only Providence provides weather."
an entirely different type of dormancy is brought about
by factors within the plant itself. The development of
lateral buds on the twig of a tree is prevented by a hor­mone
produced by the growing tip. This dormancy will
persist until the tip is injured or removed or until it
grows a considerable distance away from the dormant
bud. A similar type of dormancy appears to be involved
in tubers, such as the potato, and in the more common
bulbs. The dormancy in such cases persists until the hor­mone
present gradually di sappears; then growth is re­sumed.
Seeds often exhibit types of dormancy in which
they r emai n quiescent, even though the environmental
factors of temperature and moisture are completely fa­vorable
for growth. In some cases the embryo is immature
when the seed is shed. In other cases the seed is surround­ed
by tough and impervious protective la yers which ex­clude
the water or oxygen necessary for germination.
The breaking of dormancy co nsists of the removal of
the conditions ·w hich are present to prevent plant growth.
The two principal barriers to growth are unfavorable
temperature and lack of ·water. When these conditions no
longer exist most plants will grow. When the combination
of favorable temperature, water and oxygen is provided,
the majority of seeds will grow. There are exceptions, of
course. Some plants require a period of cold before they
will resume growth. Other plants, whose dormancy ap­pears
to be brought about by a very high hormone level,
will not grmv until the hormone level is reduced, often by
chemical treatments a nd temperature changes.
Generally speaking, the miracle touch of spring is
all that is needed to stimulate growth in dormant plants.
Although growth, upon first consideration, appears
to be a simple process of unfolding of leaves and flowers,
it is actually an extremely intricate process, delicately
controlled and easily modified by internal or environ­mental
changes.
To the chemist, the most important aspect of growth
is the synthesis of living material from food, water, and
minerals available to the plant. Such syntheses are the
foundation of life itself, and if we understood them fully
we would understand the mystery of life. It is known,
however, that the formation ·of living structures involves
extremely complicated chemical processes. Only a few of
these processes can as yet be duplicated in test tubes, and
there only by laborious methods. Yet in the plant these
proceed with great rapidity and in an intricate and closely
coordinated manner.
From the basic substances of life plants form new
cells. The cells divide and redivide countless times to
form tissues of similar cells. Following division, the ce lls
may mature in different ways. Some ·wi ll become large
storage cells, some will become elongate transport cells,
some will become thick-walled supporting cells, and oth­ers,
on the surface, will secrete protective la yers of wax.
In all plants the growth processes are essentially the same,
whether the plant be a lily or cactus, a moss or a pine
tree. The differences between plants are determined by
the pattern of the growth processes in each. This patteri1
is controlled by the heredity of each species and is
relatively constant from generation to generation. The he­reditary
pattern exerts its control through special sub­stances,
the hormones and enzymes, which in turn regu­late
the myriad chemical reactions underlyi ng growth.
Spring landscape-Northern Arizona
Relatively slight differences in amounts of hormones or
enzymes will greatly modify the height of a plant, the
shape of its leaves or the color of its flowers.
Flowers are the gay banners of the gayest season.
Without flowers our world would he very drab, indeed.
Botanists consider a flower to be a highly modified
branch in which a series of leaves have become greatly
specialized for the reproductive process and accessory
functions. For a flower to develop, a vegetative bud
which would ordinarily produce leaves, must he changed
into a flowering bud. This depends upon the favorable
combination of a great many environmental and internal
factors. In general, the environment must be sufficiently
favorable to have permitted active growth of the plant
and the accumulation of reserves of food. The time re­quired
before a plant is ready to flower varies greatly.
i\![any desert annuals will put forth their first flowers
after a very few weeks of vegatative development. Trees
commonly take five to ten years before flowering, and
some of the agaves do not flower until they have had
twenty or twenty-five years of vegetative development.
A flower is primarily a reproductive structure. Its func­tion
is to nurture developing eggs and sperm, to ensure
fertilization, to provide nutrients and protection for the
developing embryo and to assist in the dispersal of seeds.
Flowers have evolved a number of beautiful and in­teresting
mechanisms which aid in pollination, the trans­fer
of pollen from the anther to the stigma, which is the
necessary forerunner to fertilization. In general, the large,
showy flowers are insect pollinated, the colorful petals
serving to attract insects. The fragrance of flowers also
serves this function. Not all flowers are pleasantly fragrant.
A few have odors which are very repugnant, at least to
man; they serve, nevertheless, to attract certain types of
insects which facilitate pollination. The principal attraction
for insects in flowers, however, is neither color nor fragrance
but is the nectar secreted in small glands at the base of
the petals. This sugary liquid is the raw material from
which bees make honey and which supplies much of the
food of butterflies and hummingbirds. In addition, bees
and other insects utilize pollen as an important source of
food. In probing for nectar and gathering _pollen th~se
animals unconsciously aid plants by performmg the vital
step of pollination.
Plants with small or inconspicuous flowers usually
are either self-pollinated or ,vind-pollinated. In the self-
PAG E T\VEi\TY-STX ARIZONA HIGH\.VAYS JA?\ U!\ RY 1952
Spri'llg landscape-Southern Arizona
pollinated plants the structure of the flower is such ~hat
normal growth or movement of the flower parts bnngs
the pollen in contact with the stigma. Wind-pollinated
flowers produce large amounts of very light pollen which
often has small wing-like structures to facilitate its being
carried by air currents.
Aftei· fertili zation the ovulary develops into a fruit
with seeds. The other flower parts usually wither and
drop off, although in a few plants they remain and per­form
other functions, such as aiding in the dispersal of
seeds. The types of fruits ,.vhich develop are extremely
varied and many of them are as attractive and ornamen­tal
as flowers themselves. The fruit serves to nourish and
protect the developing seeds, and after this function is
performed it often aids in the dispersal of seeds. Many
types of fruits split open at maturity and scatter
the seeds with explosive violence. The edible fruits are
attractive to a number of birds and animals which may
carry the seeds for many miles. Many fruits have
hoolcs, barbs or spines which enable them to be trans­ported
long distances by animals. Still other fruits have
feathery or wing-like structures at maturity which permit
them to be carried by the wind. In the cotton plant
the seed itself is covered with fine down which facilitates
dispersal.
Spring manifests itself differently in various regions
of the world because of the differences in climates and in
plants.
The differences in the advent of spring are much
more conspicuous in the desert where vegetation is
sparse, rain is infrequent, growing periods are brief, and
each flush of bloom is treasured. Here \\T find that the
differences in growth behavior between the species stand
out conspicuously. Some desert plants respond to a rain
with vegetative growth and flo,vering no matter what
time of the year the rain may fall, but there are many ex­ceptions.
A number of plants must have fairly warm tem­peratures
in order to grow. Thus, if sporadic rains fall
only in a cold season these plants will not grow or flower.
A number of shrubby desert plants bloom only in late
spring or summer. This bloom often comes in a dry peri­od,
the plants having accumulated reserves during the
preceding growing season.
When winter rains are generous to the desert, then
the desert spring flower display is something to see and
here is best represented the miracle of spring.
Phoenix Cct7np Fire girls enjoy camping trips in the d esert during the warm, sunny da y s of winter.
. ew Mexico trader tells this story about an
old, old Indian h e m et in early spring just
as the snows were beginning to melt. T he
Indian's name is Snow-on-the-Mountain­Tops.
The trader says t hat the Indian is over
So now, and o ne of the Wise Men of hi s
trib e. He is sti ll tough as a mountain oak, and hi s snow-white
hair, braide d over both shoulders and tied w ith rabbit fur,
makes him look hi s name.
vVhen the trader asked him what brought him to town,
he pointed to th e mountains. "Amigo," he said, "these eyes
of mine have watched those Sierras for manv vears, and ha ve
learned to r ea d their sig ns. Soon now that s~o~.v on the peaks
will beg in to me lt, and th e w ate r from it will come singi ng
dow n th e va ll ey.
"Th e n m y people will sing, too, as we open o ur
ditches and turn this water onto our land. For then we w ill
know that the time of new life has come. I am h ere, amigo,
to get th e things we need to be r ea dy for it! "
T rnlv the " time of new life" comes in spring, but for
the hundi:eds of thou sa nds of boys a nd girls, the thousands
of men and women who go camping, t he " tim e of n ew li fe"
is th e d ay they get to t heir campsite, whether it is spring,
summ er, autumn, or winter. It is t he time and the da y th ey
h ave planned and w aited for. The joy of cooking over an
open fire knows no sea son.
T he winter climate of Arizona is mild in the southern
desert areas and the Salt River Valley. This makes Arizona
the most natural place in the United States for winter camp­ing.
For those who prefer their w inter camping with snow
and cold, there are mountainous snowy regions both in the
northern section of the state, and in the Catalina Mount ai ns
in the southern part of Arizona.
Aside from the climate, the history, romance and ad­venture
t hat are inherently Arizona make y ear-a round camp­ing
the most natural thing in t he world. The mode of life of
some of the Indians in Arizona is still one that is close to
the soil; the Nava jos liv e in hogans and tend th eir flo cks of
s heep on the broad open spaces. For those w ho se way of life
has taken th em into the cities and farther from · the so il from
whence com es m en tal fiber and physical st amina tough as a
mountain oak, there are campsites ava il ab l e for indi viduals
and organized groups. Here they may sti ll find ad ve nture.
Camping for individuals a nd family groups is usuall y
done for the fun of it. When thoughts of t h e smell of fry ing
bacon, or of ·t h e aroma of boiling coffee mixed with the
sweet smell of t h e wood smoke of an open fir e lead o ne to
the open trail , there is fun to be had. Camping h as ex panded
b eyond the famil y to organized groups lik e the 4-H Clubs,
PAGE TWENTY - F.TG I-IT ARIZONA HTGI-T\VAYS JANUARY 195 2
B oy S cout hikers accept the challenge of the Superst i tions.
the Y.vV .C.A., and similar groups . O rga ni z ed ca mping has
t he element of fun in it li kewise, but a dded to the fun is a
fu r ther purpose which is educational and social in nature
an d implications. O rga ni zed c amping in general, attempts
to c ultivate self-r eliance and to hel p children learn t o get
along amicab ly ,,vith their fe ll ow ca m per s, regar d less of race
or creed . There is m u ch more to t he c hallenge of campin g
t ha n m eets t he eve .
M or e and m~re people- men an d w omen, boys and
girls-are t urning t o camping for fun , fre edom, and rele~se
from t he tensions of c ity li ving. W hat has camping to off er
t hem that is worth their w h ile; W hat does "the time of new
life " h ave to offer campers as they co me singing down the
va ll ey? What does it offer to c amp administrators i n terms
of opportunity and res ponsibility? W hat d oes one need to be
r ead y for it ? Do w e have what we ne ed ?
Ad min istrator s of organi z ed c amps need administrative
and technical skills t o cope , vith the un predictably varied
conti1wencies that arise i n grou p c am ping. But those sk ills
will b g of li ttle a va il unless t hey are fo rtified bv fa ith-fa ith
fo r li vin g - and by spiritual resources an d a sotmd campin g
phi losophy . . .
D awn over the dese r t, spa rklmg w aters of a river rush­ing
d ow nstream on its appoin t ed course, the gl istening r ip ­p
le of in land lakes, the expanse of far h or izons , cool sha de of A riz ona S n o Bow l offers w inte r sp or ts .
forest, the glory of a blazing sun sinking in the golden west,
silvery moonlight and mysterious evening mist, the embers
of campfire under a star-studded sky-these are what camp­ing
offers to Americans. The opportunity to experience
them and to enjoy them, to invite one's soul to grow, is a
part of the American heritage. These are the things that
offer relief and release from the warped pavement-minded­ness
of our city streets, that challenge the imagination, that
provide inspiration and adventure, that foster spiritual
growth. These are what camping is for, and we have faith
in this type of a camping philosophy.
Individuals, groups, and even government recognize
that man cannot live by bread alone, but needs beauty as
well. Desert and mountain areas alike, with their indigenous
yegetation and wild-life, appeal to thousands of people, both
local residents and tourists. Camping enriches the lives of
many people through fun, through improvements in mental
and physical health, through recreation and through learning
to live together.
It is in recognition of the values of camping-of the
recreation and spiritual re-creation that camping gives-that
the United States Forest Service of the Department of Agri­culture
has provided camping facilities in some of the Na­tional
Forests. It is for the same reason, plus recognition of
the need for young people in Phoenix for readily available
camping facilities, that the Phoenix Parks and Recreation
Department has completed plans to provide a camping site
and facilities in South Mountain Park, the 2 5 ,ooo acre desert
area south of Phoenix. The Parks Department plans to raze
some of the old CCC buildings near the entrance to the Park,
and to repair two of the buildings for the use of organized
youth groups in Phoenix. The re-building plans are com­plete,
and the plans for use of the proposed campsite have
been drawn up. The Parks Department hopes to have the
facilities complete and ready for week-end and overnioht
I . t,
use ear y 111 1953.
In the Tonto Forest in the lower country along the Salt
and Verde Rivers in Arizona there are a number of camp­sites
bu ilt and maintained by the U.S. Forest Service. At
Dlue Point along the Salt River east of the Salt River Indian
Reservation and southeast of McDowell Mountains, there is
an improved campsite with tables, fireplaces and picnic
tables available at the camp grounds. There is river water
there, but no drinking water. Blue Point is along the Bush
Higlrnay. Coon Bluff along the Salt River west of Blue
Point has similar facilities. Saguaro Lake on the Bush High­\\:
1_'1" likewise has camping facilities for use of the public.
Seven Springs, about ten miles northeast of Cave Creek
as the crow flies, and about 45 miles from Phoenix, is an im­proved
and popular camp ground. It is often used week-ends
b~· the Boy Scouts and by physical education students from
Arizona State College at Tempe. In addition to tables, fire­pl.
lces, and toilet facilities, there is drinking water available.
Canyon Lake on the Apache Trail has camp grounds with
tables, fireplaces, and toilet facilities. All one needs is a bed
roll or sleeping bag, matches, first aid kit, food, water, and a
fe\\. cooking utensils. The less experienced among campers
ma:' enjoy bacon and eggs cooked over an open fire; the
more experienced may try their hands at baking powder bis­cuits,
stew, or planked fish.
Not all of the popular camping spots in the winter sea­son
in the Tonto country are improved camping grounds.
Camping is done around the edges of the Superstition
!\fountains, particularly at Carney Springs on the south side
of the Sup2rstitions. There are no roads in the Superstitions
Arizona children find their horses good companions.
but there is trail hiking. The Boy Scouts of the Roosevelt
Council (metropolitan Phoenix) have their winter camp in
the Superstitions, while the boys from Chandler camp in the
undeveloped areas around the Verde. These unimproved
camping sites offer the challenge of exploration and adven­ture.
Just east of Seven Springs, south of Horseshoe Dam
near the Maricopa-Yavapai county line, there is an unim­proved
campsite that is used by individuals and small groups
during the ,vinter season. Camp Creek Gauging Station be­tween
the McDowell Mountains and Bartlett Dam is anoth­er
popular winter camping ground. Barclay's camp north­east
of Goldfield just off the Apache Trail is still another. It
is necessary to take one's own drinking water to any of these
campsites with the exception of Seven Springs, where there
is drinking ·water.
The Coronado National Forest in southeastern Arizona
is managed not only for the production of timber, grass, and
wildlife, but is being developed to provide a program of
camping, picnicking, riding, hiking, swimming, and winter
sports for the public. Some camping is done the year around
in the Coronado National Forest. The most heavily used area
of the Catalinas during the winter is Sabino Cany.on, located
15 miles east of down-town Tucson. The facilities there in­clude
fireplaces, tables, toilets, and water. Sabino Canyon, at
an elevation of approximately 2 300 feet, is one of the most
scenic and beautiful areas in the vicinitv of Tucson. Students
from the University of Arizona find it a popular and easily
accessible camping spot.
There is a little winter camping on the top of the Cata­linas,
but, unlike camping on the desert, it is snow camping.
Skiing is popular, and Camp Lawton, the Boy Scout camp
high in the Catalinas, is used during the holidays.
Forty miles south of Tucson, northeast of Tubae and
Turnacacori National Monument, is Madera Canyon. Though
this is at an elevation of approximately 5000 feet, it is used
PAGE THIRTY ARIZONA HIGHvVAYS • JAK U ARY 1952
Young outdoor enthusiast and friend-a skunk!
in winter. Full camping facilities are available. There is a
small but fully equipped camp ground at Pena Blanca in the
Tumacacori Mountains northwest of Nogales in southern
Arizona. This camp ground is used in winter. These are all
improved forest camp grounds for the use of the public
without charge.
In addition to camping and camping facilities for indi­viduals
and small groups provided in the National Forests,
winter camping is provided for various organized groups
such as Camp Fire Girls, Boy Scouts, school and college
groups. The first public school camping venture in Arizona
was planned for April 195 r. Plans were made to take the
fifth, sixth, and seventh grade children of the Tempe oTam­mar
school and the Ira Payne Training School at Ten~pe to
camp at Thunderbird Field II north of Scottsdale. The plans
had to be abandoned when the armed forces requested reac­tivation
of the field.
High school students from Phoenix and Chandler
sometimes have three-day camping week-ends durina the
winter and spring. Usually they make use of camp facilities
in the Prescott area. During the early spring, college stu­dents
from the Science Department at Arizona State Col­lege
at Tempe have three-day camping sessions at Camp
Geronimo near Payson. For all practical purposes, this is
winter camping, sometimes with snow on the ground, for
spring comes late to Payson. Students have not only the
opportunity to study science and nature first hand, but have
the opportunity of planning together and living together in
a democratic community for the duration of their camp ex­perience.
They share the comradeship of the campfire and
the comradeship of endeavor.
Each year during the Christmas holidays, Explorers
( older Boy Scouts of the Roosevelt Council) go up to Camp
Geronimo and the R Bar C Ranch. Thev have a mountain
lion hunt at the base of the Mogollon Rii,,. This is high ad­venture
for the boys during the holidays.
Another camping trip of the Roosevelt Council Boy
Scouts is the annual Christmas holiday camp in the Supersti­tion
Mountains. This is for younger Scouts. They take their
own gear, pitch their tents, do their own cooking out-of­doors,
and sleep in sleeping bags at night. In addition to
their tent pitching, fire building and cooking, they do ex­ploring,
map making, and compass work.
The Girl Scouts of Tucson also do winter camping.
They camp by troops, out in the open, at Colossal Cave and
along River Road.
Every Saturday throughout the winter, children come
into their own with a special camp on the desert outskirts of
Phoenix. An educational and interesting winter day camp
for children is provided at Bud Brown's Barn. Boys and girls
come to the Barn for "a day in the country," a day of adven­ture.
It may be a drive behind a team of horses to Paradise
Valley, where the children climb the mountains and explore
the valley for the day. It may be a day at the Barn where
they ride horseback, fly kites, cook out-of-doors, participate
in archery or riflery, or make the acquaintance of Jo-Jo the
crow, Jocko the monkey, the peacocks and other animals at
the Barn.
The "day in the country" provides release from the
high tension of our modern streamlined living. It typifies
what any well-organized camp attempts to do. The purpose
of the camp is to try to re-create the values gained only from
intimate participation in life in the country.
The American Camping Association is a correlating
and coordinating agency for all types of camping. Active and
growing in the southwest is the Arizona Section of the
A.C.A. which now includes members in Albuquerque, New
Mexico and Las Vegas, Nevada, as well as from all parts of
Arizona.
Of prime concern to the A.C.A. is the increase in
camping opportunities for more people, especially children,
and the improvement of camping standards for organized
camps. The Arizona section of the A.C.A. has an annual
spring conference at Phoenix for camp directors, admin­istrators,
counselors, and others who are interested in camp­ing.
They come from the surrounding six or eight hundred
miles. Training in camping skills, information and inspira­tion
for the job of providing good camping experiences for
the youth of the land are offered at the conference.
On the ever-broadening horizons of camping one ma_v
see in Arizona more facilities for winter camping, more
winter camping for more people, the implementation of
minimum standards for health, safety, sanitation and leader­ship
for organized camps, and the· development of public
school camping. The romance and adventure inherent in
Arizona as well as the climate are a challenge to camping the
year around, but especially in the desert areas throughout the
winter. ,
Camping teaches invaluable lessons in citizenship, tol­erance
and understanding, initiative and self-reliance. It
provides the basic ingredient for world peace, learning to
live together peaceably. When public school camping be­comes
established in Arizona, as it surely will, many more
boys and girls in the state will have the priceless opportunity
of camping during the school year. Public school camping
mav draw out-of-state children to Arizona for the winter.
' Camp with me once and you will have a singing heart.
,Camp with me twice and you will have faith in life and in
living, faith in a working democracy. Camp with me three
times and camping will he the lodestar of your soul. Some
of the intrinsic heaut:r of this land will become yours.
"rATH F.R K l:\O 's NlUSTA]',GS " JS A C H AP TER FRO.\l T HI·: BOOK "HORSES AND H EROES"
WR CTTEi\ BY T HI·: D ISTl!\GUISHED AMERI CA:\" \VAR CORR ES P O:\D f.Yi' AND AUTHOR,
FR/\Z[I-:1( HUNT , /\!\D HI S SOX, ROBE RT. l'UBLlSH E D HY C HA R L E S SCRIHNER'S SO NS, KE\\'
YORK , I !\ 1949, " !·IO l(S l·'.S /\:\ D JI E RO F S" BR ILLIA:\TLY T F LLS TH F, STORY OF T HE H ORS E
O:\' THE A.\ IEIUC/\:'s C: O:\Tl :S' E:\T Sl:-SC F T H AT EA RLY n1-: c 1:.\ IIH'. R 1\ tOR:\[ NG, 14 93, \ VHEN
CHR IS TOPI-IE R COI. L.\ I BUS U:\ LOADFD FRO ,\T H IS SHI PS ,n S . \ :\TO IJO .\ TING O THE FIRST
H ORSES A 1\ I E R ICA H .•\D S F!-'. :\ FOR S0:\1 E 1-l ALf-.\ U LLIO:\ Y J-: A R S . TH E CHAPTE R \ VE P UBLI SH
DEALS \\'CTI-I 0:\ 1·: or : T ill·: TRl.i l.Y HEIWL C FI GlilU-'.S 1:-S TH I·'. S TOR Y OF T H E \VEST-FATH E I{
K 11'0, TIH'. GE:S T LJ-: J !•'. SU IT P IUFST -\V HO BRO liG I-IT Till : T EACl-11 :\GS OF HIS CH U R C H A!\ll
A KNOWLEDC I·: O F A:\ I M.AL I-IUSBA 1'dJRY A!\D .P LA!\Tlc\C T O TH E I !\DIA!\S OF OU R STATE.
-~~>~~
·. --~~
~:H:~i=IT;'l!i;:f::i:fff;\jf: orth A m erica's fi r st r eal! v fa r nous en d ur-
,_~.; ___ :=f.·'.-~ -\f•·:.- ·.:};:: an ce rider was a n l tali a n~b orn Jesui t padre ~}mi ?! ;):!:Vi named Fath er Kino. H e was also called fff;;, · J;\fj Brot her E u se bio, and in t h e nar row vall eys }ii \ {i;\j a n d g r eat desert stretches of the Son o1:a­:/
i:ii::' .. H\ .. ~;1;~ Ari zona border co un try t hey still speak of
1:'.;!:':mT:f;:;n;tit;:;:;s him a nd his miracle r ides.
H e was a l most t hi rty- nine y ears old w hen he arrived
in Ver a C ruz with a nu mber of o the r J es u it m iss i on aries .
That was on May 3, 168 1. Cortez an d his band of ad ven­tl1rers
h ad unloaded t he i r sixteen horses at th e same spot
162 yea rs before. T h e progeny of t hose origi nal si xteen
horses and t he o nes t h at s hortly fo ll owed n ow n um bered
into t he hu n d reds of t housands. Vast privately owned
ranches and nu merous 111iss i on farms a nd ra nges in Mexico
a nd t h e Texas lan ds had b ecome fertile breed ing grounds
for n u111b er less short- coupled, sturdy , toug h horses .
They sti ll d i ff ered li ttle from t he o ri g in al Spani s h-Bar b
horses th at C ol umbus a n d h is su ccessors had broug ht to the
islands of t he Wes t Indi es a n d t h en tran sp la nted to F lori da
a nd M ex ico and t h e la nds to t he north wa rd . B y Father
Kino's d ay, t hese horses h ad become fu ll y acclimated, and
the old law of t h e s ur v iva l of t he fitt est had \l'eeded out
many of t h e unw orth y and t he incompetent.
Kino certain ly had h ad no sch ool ing a s a horse a nd
cattle raiser, and li ttle or n o experien ce as a hor se ma n , vho
co ul d train a nd manage th ese to u g h, st ro ng-will ed Spa n is h­Mexic
an pon ies. He had, o dd ly enough, acquired consider ­able
fame a s a mathemati cian and map maker, and shortly
aft er hi s arriva l in i\!Iex ico Ci ty h e was o rdered to the west­coast
d istrict of Sinaloa to expl or e by b o at t h e east coast of
Lower Cali fornia . The p robl em of wheth er th is la nd was
an is l and or a peninsula was t h en a m uch mooted one. Be­fore
K in o die d he was to settle the question for all time.
He had b een in Mexico five year s w hen h e was sent
n orth to p l ant miss ions and ranc hes in the unknown and
iso lated ar ea known as P i meria A lta. This unmap ped regio n
roughly comprised an area z 50 miles square that include d
what is n ow northern Son ora and southern Arizona, ly ing
north an d so uth between t h e A ltar a nd G ila rivers, an d
from t he San Pedro Rive r on t h e east to t he Co lorado River
and t he Gulf of California o n th e west. It was largely a
hars h , waterless, cruel lan d ; inh ospitabl e, l onely, and iso ­lat
ed . B ut h ere were the hea t h e n Pima Indians, a nd close by,
th e warlik e Apaches. Lost sou ls they were, with the li t tle
father r e ad y an d eager to save t h em.
K in o picked up his h orse and shee p begin nin gs from
older 111i ss i on ran c h es o n his way n orth . H e a lso did one
oth e r vita l th in g; at Guadalajara, h e obta ined from the R o y a l
High Co u rt a formal written order tha t n o Indians converte d
by him co ul d b e forced to work in the m ines . This document
w as as important to the h ar d task that lay ah ea d as was h is
PAGE THlRT Y -T \1' 0 /\ lt ! Z OSA 1-l ! G I-IWAYS J A N U A I( Y I 9 5 2
band of horses and sh e ep; i t was se c ond only to h is sacred
m iss ion of conver sio n.
For a ll h is d evoutness and humble ser v ice to his Lord ,
t he l ittle m issionary w as a superb m a nager , b ui lder , le ader,
a nd horseman . In t h e twenty-four years be Li ved i n thi s far ­awa_
v land, h e b aptiz e d four th ousand Indians, built an d
stoc k e d a d ozen b ea u t ifu l missions and self- supporting farm s
a n d ranch es, ex p lored and m a pped L ower Cali fornia, an d
le f t astoun d in g records of trave l a n d horsemansh ip . I t i s
t hi s last, of course, that wins hi m a pla ce in t h is b ook.
H e was almost fo r t y -two y ears old when h e e stab lishe d
his m other-mission at C osari, s o m e h undred mil es b elow the
So no r a-Arizon a bord er. H e n a m ed it N u estra Sen ora de los
D olor es an d it was his headquarters until h e d ied . From it
he embarked o n more than fort y great tri ps b y h orseback,
man y of which meant journey s of from one th ousand t o
almost three t ho usand miles.
For the most part, h e travell ed with onl y a f ew I ndian
c onverts a nd possibly o n e or two S pa n ish o ffi c ers. A t times
a broth er-priest accompa ni e d him . But us ua lly h e , va s a lo ne,
save for his trusted nativ es . O n man_v of h is tri ps he woul d
drive hundreds of shee p and considerabl e horse stock o n
ah ea d, and pla n t them in som e r ich li ttle valley whe re h e
w ould soon w in over t h e Indi an s and build a far111 and mi s­sion.
On h is o rdi na ry in spection trips he wou ld in variabl:7
start out w ith a g ood string of p ack a nd saddle a n imals. F or
BY FRAZIER A ND ROBE RT HU NT
DR A W I NGS BY RO S S SA N TEE
as m uch as thirty-six hours at a str et c h he would make his
w ay across deserts that were waterl ess deathtraps . Ye t the
uncanny little padre never fa iled to get throu gh with his
hor ses an d h is Indians.
He was fifty- one when h e d ec ided to g o d irectly t o
M exico C i t y t o p lead for more missionaries a nd more mis­sions
for hi s Pima land. A few months before this a b an d of
I ndian malconten ts had ~;uddenlv arisen, killed Father X avier
Saeta, and brought on a genei:a l u prising i n P im eria A l t a.
A lone, F a ther K ino staved with his mother-miss i on, and
whi le other establi sh111 e1;ts w ere plundered a nd destro_v ed
D olores was u n touched . T he revengi ng Spanish soldiers
exacted a t errible penalty, but by N o vember, 169 5, peace
w as restored, an d the padre s ta rted hi s long horseback jour­n
ey to th e cap it al \\ i th on l: ' a sc ant I nd ian esco rt. T he: · rode
th e tough l ittle mustangs that had b een born on the open
ranges and b roken b:7 I ndian missi o n bo_v s .
There w as much work for the padre on hi s \\·av south.
T here were sunrise Masses to be said , baptism s to be don e,
e nd less advice a nd o rders to b e given. E ach nig ht it would
be dark whe n Father Ki no u n saddled and laid hi s s heepskin
sa d dl e pads on t he ground fo r h is b ed . A t dawn he w ould
be up, and t he bus:7 da:7 w ou l d b egin.
Tt w as a r o u nd about w av he fo ll owed to Mexico C itv,
totalling almost 1, 500 mi les. ~'Inch of it w a s trail-r id ing over
rough countr y, yet the middle-aged prie s t made the entire
iuurney in fifty-one days. This meant an a\-erage of thirt_\·
miles a dav, rain or shin e, heat or frost, \\ ·ith e\·ery minute
he \\ as ou't of the saddle cro,\·ded w ith a hundred-and-one
duties and ministrations.
Fie arrived in the capital on January S, 1696, and a
month later started the long journey home. This time he was
accompanied by Captain Cristobal de Leon, who ,1·as killed
by Jacome Indians long before the jou rne:·'s end. Father
Kino had turned aside to say goodbye to two brother-padres
at a passing mission, when the attack was staged, and thus
had escaped death.
~ :·~---~
Year after year Kino continued his tireless horseback
journeys. He would pick a spot fo r a ne\\' rnission and with
only the humblest adobe hut as a beginning, he would start
his plantings and horse and sheep industr_v. Shortly, as if
by miracle, green field_s, flocks and horse herds, and heauti­ful
mission huildings would come to life. Ah\ ays there \\ ere
new horseback journeys to make, new missions to establish.
One of his journeys extended through the fifteen-day
period from April 2 1 to May 6, 1 700. The first fo ur clays,
he covered the 140 miles bet,1·een Dolores and San Xavier
l\1ission, below the present city of Tucson. H e \1as busv
even' spare moment, saying Mass, hapti;,:ing children, and
com.forti1w the sick and dvi1w. On the fourth day , he laid t, . t, .
out plans for a new church ,111d rode fifr:,· miles on to San
Xavier.
After a cnl\\·ded \1-cek he took up the 'return journey,
riding fifty miles the first da_v, and reaching San Cayetano
late that night. The following morning he had just s::iid his
sunrise J\1ass when a messenger came from Father Campos,
his fellow-priest at San Ignacio, sixty-two miles away, with
the word that the Spanish soldiers had captured a runaway
Indian and on the following morning would beat him to
death. Kino finished his duti es, wrote several letters, then
called for his horse, and reached San Ignacio at midnight. He
slept only a few hours when he was up to say his sunrise
Mass and to throw the power of his presence into the fight
to save the Indian boy's life. He won.
For a total of twe;1ty-four continuous years, this indefat­igable
missionary-on-horsehack rode across the burning
sands, through hostile and friendly Indian lands, up tiny
va lleys, spreading his good words and good deeds. At sixty­five,
broken in body but strong in spirit, the old father col­lapsed
as he was dedicating a bea utiful little chapel conse­crated
to San Francisco Xavier, that he had built at Santa
Magdalena. Six days later he died.
Rev. Father Luis Velarde, who was his successor in the
rectorship of Pimeria Alta, wrote with touching simplicity
of how death came to this first great horseman of the
continent:
He died as he had lived, in the greatest humility and pm·­crty,
not even undressing during his last illness and having for
his bed- as he had always had-two sheepskins for a mattress
and two small blankets of the sort that the In dians use for
cover, and for his pillow a packsaddle.
THE INDIANS ACQUIRE HORSES
MANY of the Spanish-Barb mustangs t hat l-Gno raised on
the mission ranches of his beloved Pimeria Alta, along with
other stolen mission horses, soon found their way far north­ward
on the east or west side of the Rockies. Time and again
native revolts would burst into flam e, and Indians would loot
the missions and dri,·e off the horses. The animals, along with
the art of how to train and handle them, were traded to warlike
tribes who spread this horse culture ever northward .
,Vithin a generation after the death of Father Kino, many
of the Indian tr ibes of the High Plains acquired the horses
that in a few short years turned them from inefficient earth­bound
primitives into wandering tribes of buff,110 hunters,
mobile and dangerous to the growing ,vhite pressures.
Meanwhile, some two t housand miles to the east of Kino's
land, other herds of Spanish-Barb horses were stolen from
ocher missions and eventually found themselves in the hands
of the native Indians of Georgia and the Carolinas. Shortly
these lllUStangs met another kind of horse that had been brought
by white men in ships to the English settlements.
And thus it was that the first great crossing of horse
breeds and types took place in America: the native-born Indian­Spanish-
Barb and the English horse. The result was a type of
pure American horse that lives on to this day.
A superbly trained horse is put through paces ~uJithout use of bridle. Bill Simon trains a cutting horse.
There's a story about an
old Texas cattleman who
was surprised near his
horse corral one day by
a band of raiding Indians.
The savages grabbed
hirn, tied his hands be­hind
his back and rolled
him into the dust where
h e la_v ,vatching philo­sophically
while the Redskins collected his saddles, blankets,
clothing-everything of value they could find.
The_\' even dragged his wife out of the house, hog-tied
her and threw her across the back of one of their horses
,vithout rousing the old rnan to any show of resentment.
His eves narro,ved, however, when thev went into his
corral and began catching his horses to take with them.
Finall_\ ' , when one of the Indians put a rope on a particular
horse, the old cattleman let out a bellow of rage.
"Get yer filthy paws off that'n! That's my cuttin' horse!"
Whereupon he jurnped to his feet and with his hands still
tied behind his back, kicked, butted and bit until he had
killed two of the Indians and driven the rest plumb off the
ranch.
Later his wife bragged admiringly to neighbors, "I
knew Ed'd rescue me soon's I saw them Injuns put a rope
onto his cuttin' horse."
Tales like that only stretch the truth. They are founded
on the fact that horses were the most important tool the
cattleman of the old West had. They were valued accord­ingly
, and with varying amounts of honest affection thrown
in for the horse that showed intelligent understanding of
the job.
Of course, the machine age has hit the range country,
too, and Jeeps and trucks now prowl the ranches doing
many of the jobs once done by men on horses. As one old
Arizona cowpoke told his boss, however, at the end of his
first day on the range with a new Jeep: "I guess it's all right.
It sure gets over the ground, but Boss, it's the stupidest dang
thing I ever seen when it meets a cow."
It hasn't been easy for old-timers to adjust themselves
to the senselessness of machines. On Feb. 3, 1950, for in­stance,
one of them was killed beneath the wheels of his
Jeep on a ranch in the Willcox, Arizona, area. He roped a
steer from the hood of the machine while another hand
drove. The steer jerked him off and the driver couldn't
stop in time.
In spite of the cowman's reluctance, however, the old­fashioned
stock horse was in danger of falling into a position
of relative unimportance until the rodeo and performance
shows came to his rescue.
Nowadays it's a rare cattleman who doesn't have at
leas t one or two horses to enter in the many stock horse
shows and rodeos which have become a major type of enter­tainment
for dudes and westerners alike .
It's all authentic cowboy stuff at these events, too.
They're based on the things cowboys have always done,
either as a part of their job, or as the wild kind of entertain­ment
they have always enjoyed.
There is one difference.
"We used to be pretty sloppy about trammg our
horses, " says Bill Simon, one of the few real cowboys who
has made the transition from plain cowpunching to the art
of training stock horses for the show ring and rodeo arena.
"If a pony showed aptitude as a cuttin' horse, he was used
for that job, and eventually he might get pretty good at it.
It was the same with ropin' horses and all the other kinds.
They got their training in a haphazard way as they worked.
"Then came the dudes who made rodeoing pay, and
eventually the western performance shows. The competition
stiffened, and pretty soon you didn't get anywhere with
just a fairly good horse. These modern cuttin', ropin' and
PAGE THIRTY-SIX ARIZONA HIGHWAYS JANUARY 1952
Settin' Hen handles stock easily. A trained horse works easily, responds to lightest touch of reins.
BY RICH JOHNSON
reinin' horses you see in the shows are way ahead of most
of the old-time ranch horses. They've been trained care­fully,
and they're worth a lot of money because they earn
a lot of prize money for their owners."
Training is an art, not much different from playing a
violin, Simon insists. It's nine-tenths in the fingers and one­tenth
in the head of the trainer. "You can't hope to control
a half ton of highstrung horseflesh by sheer muscle," he
points out, "not and turn out a smooth performance that
wins top money. There has to be a bond established between
horse and rider, so that the horse responds to a light touch
and knows from habit what is expected of him. The best
horses are those that want to do the right thing because they
enjoy it."
It's a long way for any horse to come, from his natural
instinct to be free, to the complete unity which appears to
exist between the rider and horse in a performance sh ow .
To see how it is accomplished and to get fuller enjoy­ment
from the next rodeo or western show you see, let's
see how Simon goes about training a stock horse for rodeo
and show work.
Ea rly in the morning, before the sun gets too hot, the
training session is begun. "To learn," says Simon, "a horse
must stay cool and calm, at least at first. I never let my
b egi nners get off a walk. We go through eac h moveme,~t
slow, and never repeat it in the same day after it has been
done right o nce."
Simon uses a hackamore, rather than a snaffie bit in the
mouth. In fact, he has invented two hackamores, both of
which bear his name an d are manufactured by Crockett,
the famous makers of riding equipment. The hackamore
achieves control by means of pressure on the nose and under
the chin.
"I won't argue with anybody about which is best," he
says. "I just happ en to get the best results with a hackamore,
and I never us e anything else for training."
Tl:ie standard movements made by a working stock
horse mclude the figure eight, combining right and left
turns, quarter and half turns which require pivoting on the
rear feet, and the stop-and-back.
Of these, the quarter turn is probably the most difficult
to teach, because it is only natural for a horse to turn all
the way around once it starts.
Most spectacular, howe v er, is the stop-and-back, which
is essential in calf roping. The next time you watch a rodeo
calf roping event, notice the number of things the horse has
had to l ea rn. At the beginning he must rate his speed behind
the calf until the l oop has been thrown and· has set tled
around the calf's neck. Then he must dig his rear feet into
the ground for a power stop which beds the calf down w ith
a jerk.
Out on the range, if the calf does n't get to its feet be­fore
th e cowboy gets to it, so much the better, but in rodeo
competition the cowboy must thrmv the calf himself. The
horse can help, though, by working the rope, but the second
~he calf !s down the horse must know enough to stop back­mg
and JU St keep the rope taut. If he pulls too much at this
stage, the calf will b e choked and start struggling. That will
make it harder for the cowboy to get his piggin' string t_ied
around the calf s legs. A horse that backs too much dunno­this
stage of the action is called a pztt-and-tal'-e pony . He ha~
put his rider in the money and then take n him right out of
it again .
That rope around the ho r se's n eck, through which
the lariat passes, is called a foul rope and it keeps the horse
from turning around and taking off with the calf and maybe
the cowb oy, too. It chokes him if he starts to turn away
from the calf. ·
One of the things that never fails to bring cheers from
a dude crowd is the rider who, without a rope or a calf
either, puts his horse into a stop-and-ba ck , then gets down
and pretends to tie a calf while his horse keeps the imaginary
rope taut. The dudes cheer and laugh, while many an old
cowhand gets a lump in his throat.
But let's get back to the training session with Simon.
He has been walking the student horse through figure eights
to let us see that the reins are held loosely. Simon gives hi s
orders by a touch of the rein on the neck, a slight pressure
of the knee, or just a scarcely noticeable tilt of his body in
the saddle.
Sometimes a horse gets too smart, and turns before the
command is given . He' s more often right than wrong, and
on the range it would be just fine. In a performance show,
however, he gets marked down for it unless the rider can
cover up before the judges notice it.
"Now we'll go through some figure eights at top speed,"
Simon calls, "and watch for three things. The hind feet
should travel in a smaller arc on the turns than the front
feet. That's to maintain perfect balance at all times. In the
turns the legs on the side toward which the turn is being
made should be reaching out. That's called being on the
right lead.
"Then watch the head. It should be tilted slightly in a
cant which makes it possible for the horse to watch his feet
or a calf on the inside of the turn, and also helps n1aintain
balance ."
That cant of the head is particularly valuable for heel
horses, and it's something that has to be taught. Training
is accomplished by reining on the side . opposite from the
direction in which the turn is being made. Eventually the
horse catches on to the advantage of the head cant, and
after that he'll do it without reining.
The figure eight is the basic movement of stake races
in which the horse weaves between stakes set every 2 1 feet.
On the range this ability is called into play where rocks and
brush are the obstacles. Done by a well trained horse and a
good rider, these movements blend into a smooth perform­ance
with perfect balance that is a joy to behold. It appears
almost effortless, deceptively so, if the horse turns on his
right leads, keeps his rear feet under him, and the rider is
capable.
How long do you work a horse during the training
period? "Just about 20 minutes each da y ," Simon says, "ex­cept
for a little straight riding after each session. You have
to know when to quit in order to avoid confusing the horse.
He can learn only so much at a time, and if you go at it
too hard or too long he'll try to t ake things into his own
hands. Then you've spoiled everything you've gained. Keep
him cool and able to think. The aim is to establish certain
habit patterns in his mind, and that can be done only when
he's trying." ·
Sure, the horse really tries to learn. How else can you
explain the fact that Simon ' s Settin ' Hen performs without
a bridle? That's no idle trainer's boast either, for Simon
and his mare give exhibitions at shows ·without the bridle.
When he talks about the bond that grows between a
good horse and a good rider, this performance without a
bridle is one of the things he has in mind. Of course, the
training does it, but there's something else, too. "There
comes a moment," Simon says, "when your horse does some­thing
just right without a command. He saw what needed
Settin' Hen, a smart cutting horse, gives advice to calf.
doing next, guessed in split second timing what you would
tell him to do and did it. That's when you want to stop right
there and put your arms around his neck."
The bond can be very real at times. For instance, Simon
was once asked to put a · price on Settin' Hen. He refused,
but when presse d said, "Oh, $5,000 I guess." Then he looked
a little scared . "You wouldn't pay that, of course, would
you?"
The man laughed and agreed that he wouldn' t, and a
look of genuine relief came into Simon's face.
Money doesn't mean much to a man who has established
that electi:ic bond of companionship with a horse. That's
why trainers seldom succeed as traders. They'll dodge the
issue by claiming to believe they can win more money in
the shows with their favorite .
Now to get back to this business of training, there are
different kinds of roping horses, or rather, there are different
roping jobs to be done, each of which demands some special
training.
Single steer roping, for instance, is much different from
calf roping. The steer is much heavier and must be handled
differently. The horse rates his speed behind the steer, as in
calf roping, until the rider gets a loop on the steer's head.
Then, however, instead of putting down a sudden stop, he
turns on a burst of spee d as the rider throws a trip. This
is done by waving the slack in the rope over the steer's
right hip. Then another flash of speed carries the horse past
the steer, chopping its legs out from under it with the rope.
When the steer goes down, the horse must drag it for
about 30 feet. Then the rider gets down, with the horse still
in motion, meets the steer and ties any three of its feet
together before it has a chance to get up.
To train a horse for single steer roping (steer jerking,
steer busting and fairgrounding are other names for it),
Simon puts a chain on a log that weighs 500 to 600 pounds.
He fastens his rope to the chain and pulls the log, while
mounted, by the saddle horn. That in itself is something a
saddle horse doesn't like to do, and the pull must be steady,
not jerky. ·
After the horse has learned to pull, Simon gets out of
the saddle and teaches the horse to go right on pulling. He
uses a 30-foot jerk line, tied to the bridle and strung through
a pulley on the saddle to stop the horse.
Once in a while you'll see the jerk line on a horse even
in rodeo competition, and us ed b y even the best of cow­boys.
It's a safety measure to insure against the off chance
that the horse may spook and take off with the steer drag­ging,
and the cowboy kissing his time goodbye.
Mrs. Sin1on rides The Spania rd in n1any cutting contests.
"Even ,vith an intelligent and willing horse," Simon
sa y s, "it may take a year or longer to train a steer jerker."
Then there are the horses used for team roping. In this
type of work the rider of the hea d horse ropes the steer
either around the neck or the horns, and then tries to place
the steer so that the heeler can get a quick throw at the hind
legs.
A different technique is required in all cases, but all
roping horses must learn to rate their speed. Rating means
simply to slow or increase the speed to maintain a certain
distance between rider and stock. When the horse catches
up with the steer, he must slow to the critter's speed. If he
is going faster than the stee.r when the loop is thrown, it
will travel too fast and overshoot.
Simon teaches rating by following a calf, at first at a
walk, then faster, and always holding the horse at a given
distance behind and just a little to the right of the calf.
When the calf slows down, the horse is slowed down. When
the calf speeds up, the horse does the same. It isn't a showy
thing, but very important. •
And we can't forget to mention the dogging horse. He
and his rider tend to be the prima donnas of the rodeo. Both
usually develop nerves. The dogging horse must be cocked
to make a fast break from the barrier, but he must hold until
the steer is off to a slight start. He must then overtake the
steer, rate his speed along side for an instant until the rider
jumps on the steer's head, then turn on a burst of speed to
pass and get out of the way.
There are other types of stock work which demand
their particular skill from the horse, but the average rodeo
fan will have his hands full watching for the things already
mentioned, so we'll go on to the cutting horse.
He's the aristocrat of all stock horses. "You can develop
a cutting horse," says Simon, "but unless he has a natural
talent for the work, he'll never be tops in the field." He is
the only animal in the world to have an official association
based entirely on his talent, rather than breeding, confor­mation
or color. The National Cutting Horse Association
was formed for the sole purpose of perpetuating interest
in the most prized kind of stock horse the world has ever
known.
Now what is this talent for cutting that every western
horse trainer always looks for in a young horse? "Simply a
natural interest in following and turning with a cow critter,"
says Simon. It's something quite aside from following a
command from the rider, and though you may train a horse
to cut a calf out of a herd and keep it away, only the born
cutting horse is ever really superior. He 'usually works with his
head low so th a t his eyes are on a level with the aniinal to
be cut. He watches the stock like a cat watching a mouse .
In the herd, the cutting horse is stealthy and quiet. He
takes his cue from the rider until he is sure which animal is
to be taken out of the herd, then he edges the stock to the
edge of the herd and out into the open. That's when the
going gets rough.
The stock has only one idea-to get back into the herd.
The horse ducks, dives, w eaves and pivots to head off every
attempt at it. Riding him is like riding a cracking whip. He
knows what he's doing _ and how to do it without reining.
He's pretty much a free lancer in the business.
"The trainer can smooth out his performance a little,
teach him the fundamentals of balance," Simon says, "and
keep him in working trim, but that's about the limit of edu­cating
the cutting horse. He never forgets how to work, no
matter how long he may be away from it, though he may
get out of shape physically and be unable to keep up the
killing pace if he isn't worked regularly."
Of course, there 's a lot more to training stock horses
than Bill Simon, or anyone else, can describe. There's a feel­ing
inside a man for the things a horse does or may do.
Call it horse sense, if you like. He knows that besides being
a magnificent animal, a horse is also an engine of death and
destruction. Each trainer deals with that animal instinct in
a different way.
The one thing they all must have is patience, patience
enough to change the horse's mind when it loses patience.
"From there on every trainer is a law unto himself," Simon
says. "He develops his own methods for meeting every
situation, and though you can always learn something from
another trainer, you can't take over his entire method be­cause
it won't fit you."
Simon doesn't talk about his accidents, but his wife,
Betty, remembers them. "Let's see," she says, "Bill had one
ear torn off while dogging a 1 ,ooo-pound steer once. He
had it sewed back on though. Another time his leg was
broken in six places between the ankle and knee. He did
his convalescing on horseback after that one, with his crutch
tied on the saddle.
"Then there was the time his horse bucked, stepped on
his front feet with his hind ones and turned completely over.
Bill's shoulder and collar bone were broken in that wreck,
but he had himself wrapped up and went to a dance that
night. Once his horse rolled over with him, got the rein
around Bill ' s wrist and then lunged away. That tore the
muscle right out of Bill's arm, and it took him some time
to get . over it. He 'dished a wheel' too, which is cowboy
lingo for a knee that gets thrown out of joint and won't
go back."
Little things like that will happen, of course, but they're
just a part of the life a cowboy leads. His work is dangerous,
whether he still rides the range or has gone over to the
rodeo trail, or makes a living by training the horses that
make big money in the performance shows.
Yes, ther e' s a bond between a cowboy and his horse,
the kind of bond that is between two strong, proud crea­tures.
It isn't sentimental. It's mutual respect and admiration,
and it is just as real as the cattle country itself.
PAGE THIRTY-N INE ARIZONA HIGHWAYS • JANU A RY 1952
RLCOG:'\!TlO:'\T IN AFRICA:
... I ha\·c rccci\·cd 1·our 111a~·azine for se\·eral
)·cars and h:l\"e cnjo;·cd it s; much and after
~eading it each lllonth I send it on to an old
friend in South Africa, Mr. \Villiam Hills, who
is the owner and editor of a chain of newspa­pers
in that part of the country. I thought
you might be interested in what he says in
part in an editorial titled "Our Unworked
Gold Mine," which appeared in the Gerrniston
Advocate a few \1·eeks ago.
He points out that South Africa has vast
potentials for the tourist industry and thet1
he says this about ARIZONA l-!tGII\L\YS.
Arizona, comparatively speaking, has
a sn1all population with few industries of its
own beyond agriculture in the most fertile
portion of the State, a considerable lumber in­dustry
and a limited a1nount of mining, yet
today it attracts touri:;ts from all m·cr the
·world by reason of its great natural attrac­tions
as set forth bv car and q·c.
"The writer on ·a \·isit to tiie States made
his way thither attracted by what he heard,
and the rc,1lity \\·as c\·cn greater than his ex­Dectations.
' "But how many of the tourists who go to
Arizona \1·ould ha1·e bwwn ,rnnhing at all of
its man·els if the Arizonans had just sat in
their chairs and gone to sleep? Have most
South African touring organizations any idea
of how to make South Africa a magnet for
world tra\·ellcrs?
"If thev ha \·e not, let them take a leaf from
Arizona's book. And the \1·ord 'book' n1av be
taken literally, for in Amzo:--IA l-11cm;,AYS,
published nery month, is the most superb and
beautiful production in colour of an:,· coun­try's
charms the 11·orld has :,·ct seen-perfec­tion
from an art standpoint, perfection in col­our
photographv, perfection in arrangement
and perfection in production."
" .. The Arizona people: capitalise in AR1-
zo'.': ,\ l-1 JGIIWA YS not only their scenery and
their great canrons but e1·cn their deserts and
their dams, their people and their way of liv­ing."
·' . . . \\' hat Arizona has clone and is doing
we can do."
Mrs. E. L. Blanchard
Dallas, Texas
• Tf/ e are grateful to .\lrs. Blanc/.iard to know
tf.,at our little 111ag,1·:ine is recognized by /.,er
/rie11d, Mr. Hills, so /,rr from /.io111e. TVe are
glad t/.Jat t/.,is disth1g11is/.ied 11e-ws/Ja/)erman
likes our Jm/,lication. Lm,g Live T/.ie Germis­ton
Ad,:ocate!
PICTOGRAPHS OR PFTROGLYPHS:
... I notice in your October issue that you fi­nally
ha1·e met with the problem of pictograpbs
or petroglypf.,s, and that 1·ou ask for comments.
It requires no archaeol~gist, learned or other­wise,
to check with a dictionarv, of course, but
it is really surprising how often ~1-e in the profes­sion
are asked \\·hich is what. It is as simple as
this: a pictograph refers to picture writing and a
petroglyph refers to stone carl"ing.
Thus, 11·ithin the rc,illl1 of ideographic writing,
all pctroglyphs arc pictographs, but only picto­graphs
can·cd or pecked in stone are petro­glyphs.
Other forms of pictography may be
found on 11·ood, skins, and c1·en tattooed on the
human body. (Or doodled on phone books.)
\ \'hilc on this subject, let us deal with the
word /.iierogly pl-', which often is wrongly applied
to the pictograph:,· of American Indians. This
,,·ore! refers to sacred writing, as of the priestly
hierarchy of ancient Eg:,1 pt, but is hardly ap­plicable
to American pictographs, unless one can
pro1·c a sacred or religious connotation.
Odd S. Halseth
City Archaeologist
Phoenix, Arizona
• T!xtt, as tbey say, is t/.,at! And it is fitting t/.ie
!.-1st -.. :;o;·d s/.iould come from no more distin­guished
arc/.iaeologist t!.1,m our o-wn Odd S.
Halset/.J.
DISTA'\'T RAILROAD:
•.. I notice November Highways, "Yours Sin­cerely."
\Vlw bother the Postmaster General?
Two· and a ·half hours' work, National Geo­graphic
maps of the Southwest of 1940 and 1948,
State Highway Road Map of Arizona of 1948
and a road map of Nenda-Utah, give airline
distances as follows:
Kavenra, Arizona, to head of rail at Grand
Canv.on, 113 miles; Blue, Arizona, to rail head at
Ada.mana, 103 ii miles; Tuweep, Arizona, to rail
head at Grand Canyon, 59 miles; Tuweep, Ari­zona,
to rail head at Cedar City, Utah, 91 miles.
Apart from acrnal sun·ey, don't believe these
distances are off plus or minus one mile ...
W. C. Everett
Winslow, Ariz.
• Until "u.Je can be sbo-wn difTeremly , "u.Je will
lay claim to K.ayenta beii1g t/.,e U. S. post offict
furtbest fro711 any railroad.
ELEVATIONS: GRAND CANYON:
.. . In answering i\1r. Weisman's query about
"How High Are the Rims," you were slightly in
error. Bright Angel Point is on the South Rim
of the Grand Canyon not the North Rim, and is
8,153 not 6,886 feet high.
Usually in answering that question about the
difference in altitude of the two rims we give the
figure 1,200 ft. The Yavapai Observation Station
on the South Rim almost directly across from
the Grand Canyon Lodge on the North Rim has
an altirncle of 7,073, about r,130 lower than the
Lodge. Grand Canyon Village, elevation 6,866, is
then about 1,330 feet lower than the lodge on
the North Rim. However, various places in the
North Ri111 forest-the setting of Zane Grey's
hook "The Deer Stalker"-are well above 9,000
feet. , ..
Ernst Christensen
Assistant Park Naturalist
Grand Canyon National Park
Grand Can}'On, Arizona
• Muc!-' can bappen in 1,200 feet elevation. Tbe
North Rim is no-w isolated under •winter's /.ieavy
mantle.
l'c\G r. FORTY ARIZONA HIGH,VAYS JANUARY 1952
0PPOStTE PAGE- "In Salt River Canyon" by Fred
H. Ragsdale. U.S. Highway 60 crosses Salt
River through Salt River Gorge about 45
miles north of Globe. The highway, winding
its way up and down steep canyon walls, rep­resents
some of the finest highway engineer­uw
in the state. The plant in the foreground is
th~ Pricklv Pear.
e COCK O' THE DESERT
( T !.1e Roadrznmer)
A presence stirs a windy leaf
And mars the patterned shade,
His never-prisoned feet defy
The chaparral barricade.
Familiarly he flanks my door,
Gi,·es me appraising eye;
Since I have lesser business airs
He hastes aloofly by.
He strides the whole expanse he owns
And veers a foolish tail,
Abducts a lizard, plucks an ant,
Importantly scouts the trail.
Alert he scurries down the road
To chase a sillv truck,
\Vistfullv I wish him near
To war;ant me good luck.
BEULA-MARY vv AoswoRrH
JANUARY IN NA VAJOLAND
This is the season of the Thin Icy Sheet,
When the Rabbit Track stars d°cit the evening
sky,
And the fox bellies down in the frost-jeweled
snow
vVhen the breath of the Cold \Voman whistles
by.
This is the season when showers of sparks
Lift from the cedar logs' crisp dancing blaze.
Gray smoke holds beckoning arms aloft,
And winter marks time with long, white clays.
FERN TAPSCOTT BELL
* ORGANPIPE CACTUS
"We found the fellow south of Gila Bend;
He'd wandered, lost," the old prospector said,
"Among the organpipes, till in the end
Their phantom music filled his thirst-crazed
head.
"He thought the dim cathedrals of his vouth
Had closed him in with cool and liquid tones,
And quite forgot the grim, relentless truth,
The desert, waiting for his sun-dried bones.
"Around him, as he groped in vague despair,
The slender cacrns columns stood outlined
And_ through the silence of the noonday glare
Their ghostly anthems echoed in his mind."
@ KATI-IERINE CARR HENZE
BACK PAGE- "Saguaro Riders" by Chuck Ab­bott.
Location: Catalina foothills·, near Tucson.
Time: about 7:30 A.M. early in June. Camera:
5x7 Deardorff · View. Leni: Goerz Dogmar.
Exposure: 1/25th at f.i 4. Photograph originally
was taken for Tucson's advertising program.
Location and saguaros had been carefullv
scouted. When blossoms were in full bloorn
models and horses were secured. A photograph
carefully planned in all details, finished product
looks unposed, informal.