284 INDIANS OF THE GILA, AND THE CASAS GRANDES.

think, I ever experienced, we set out on our return to camp. Our Indian companions, having got out of water (of which we had none to spare), set off in advance to reach the river, and there wait for us. They were quite reluctant to go alone even a couple of miles, for fear of the Apaches; and I doubt whether they would have ventured even then without us, had they not been driven to do so by extreme thirst. As our canteens were all exhausted before leaving, we were obliged to follow their example. We found the river's bank about fifteen feet high, and so abrupt that it was with some difficulty we reached the water. After following the route by which we came, and crossing on our way several of the old irrigating canals, from which the ancient people who occupied the valley derived their water, we reached our camp at three o'clock, much fatigued though amply repaid by our day's excursion. The mercury had stood in the shade, beneath the trees, at 119° Fahrenheit, between the hours of ten and three o'clock.

I found a few Indians in camp, among them a messenger from Francisco Dukey, the Maricopa interpreter, who, ashamed to come himself, had sent another to me, begging that I would give him a written recommendation to show to other Americans. His request was peremptorily refused.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

CASAS GRANDES TO SANTA CRUZ.

Leave the Gila-Terrific storm on the desert-Encounter a party of Americans at midnight-Stopped by the darkness-Unpleasant situationPack-mules and cattle missing-Picacho mountain-Vegetation of the desert-Second night's march-Arrival at Tucson-General BlancoArrival of Mexican troops-Campaign against the Apaches-Meet Mr. Coons with 14,000 sheep-His disasters-Visit from Gen. Blanco and his officers-Repairs on wagons-Tucson and its valley-Meteorite San Xavier del Bac-Beautiful church-Spanish and Anglo-Saxon colonization-Incessant rains-Presidio of Tubac-Meet Inez Gonzales, the captive girl-Her sad fate-Uncertainty of irrigated lands-California emigrants-Calabasa-Picturesque valley-Tumacacori-San LazaroMore emigrants-Reach Santa Cruz.

July 13th. The heat continued excessive. The thermometer had ranged every day since our arrival at the Maricopa and Pimo villages at from 100° to 119° between the hours of 10 and 3; in fact it had scarcely fallen below 100 between these hours since we struck the desert beyond the Colorado. During the week we were at Fort Yuma, as well as during our journey, there was but little variation. The nights remained comfortable all the time; so that in the open air a single blanket was necessary.

Having a long march before us, we left camp at halfpast 4 P. M., desiring to reach a mountain forty-five

miles distant, or half way across the great jornada, the following morning, although we had little hope of finding water until we should get to Tucson. The mountain referred to is called the "Picacho," Picacho," a name applied to every high abrupt peak. Our course lay a little to the east of south, direct for the Picacho, across a vast open plain. A short range of mountains on the west, within a mile of the road, was soon passed. On the east was a lofty range fifty miles distant, with no intervening objects. The road was excellent; and our animals being fresh, we hurried them on as fast as it was prudent to do. As we progressed, there seemed to be a likelihood of rain, which was somewhat increased by a perceptible change in the air. The prospect before us was dismal enough, in the midst of the wide-spreading desert; for by night-fall we had passed the mountains on our right, and were soon far from any landmark.

As the sun sank below the horizon, the dark cloudbank which we had observed far to the south ascended, and we could see the rain already falling on the distant mountain. Night now set in; the thick clouds rose higher and higher, and before nine o'clock had completely obscured every star. Shrouded as we were in darkness, it was no easy matter to find our way through the low mezquit bushes scattered over the desert. But nature's light-house opened its portals, and the vivid lightning flashed around us; so that the black mountain, our beacon in this desert, seemed constantly before us. Up to this time I had taken the lead in my wagon; but as my mules became alarmed, rendering it impossible to get along, I placed Mr. Leroux, who rode a milk-white mule, immediately before mine.

His animal could be seen, and all followed him. Peals of the most terrific thunder burst upon us, leaving scarcely an interval of repose. Next came violent gusts of wind, accompanied by clouds of sand and dust, reminding one of the African simoom. The wind was directly in our

from the south, and brought the sand faces. To avoid it was impossible. Not a tree was to be seen; no ravine appeared where we could shelter ourselves; and the nearest mountain was yet twenty miles off. Lastly came torrents of rain, and this terrific storm was at its height.

Slowly we journeyed on, drenched to the skin, notwithstanding our overcoats and India rubber garments. The march before us must be made, and the sooner the "Picacho" was reached the better. To stop, was to endanger our animals; for no pools had yet been seen where the rain had accumulated, so that we had neither water nor grass to give them. At midnight, in the midst of this extreme darkness and rain, where one would about as soon expect to meet a human being as in the middle of the broad ocean, we were suddenly brought to a stand by the sound of voices! "Who comes there? Quien vive?" were quickly cried by a dozen voices in English and Spanish, and as quickly answered, "Friends! Amigos! Who are you? Where are you from? De donde viene?" etc., and in a moment we were surrounded by horsemen, pack-mules, and the accompaniments of a large party. Were they Indians, or Mexicans, or Americans-friends or enemies, ran through my mind, till the sound of English voices dissipated my apprehensions. It proved to be a party of between forty and fifty Americans,

bound for California. We stopped about ten minutes to exchange a few words, though we could not distinguish faces. This we were, in a measure, compelled. to do, to separate our animals from those of the passing train, for all were now mixed up together. The party was from Missouri, and had come by the way of El Paso. They gave us some news from the latter place, which was very acceptable. Inquiries were made by each party about the grass and water on the route, when, the animals becoming restive, we bade them adieu, and resumed our journey.

Up to this time, the tempest had not in the least abated. Indeed the darkness seemed growing still thicker, while the flashes of lightning were becoming less frequent, which rendered it more difficult to keep on our course. After a longer interval than usual, the heavens were again lighted up, when I found myself going in an opposite direction to the right one, and the party much scattered. Leroux came up, and said that it was absolutely necessary to stop where we were; as some of the pack-mules were missing, and it was impossible to keep together or find our way in such impenetrable darkness. I accordingly had my mules taken out and hitched to my wagon; the same was done with the teams. All the pack-mules that could be found, were brought together; and the horsemen fastened their animals wherever they could find a bush. Dr. Webb and myself remained quietly in our wagon.

In the midst of the storm Mr. Thurber, with a great deal of perseverance, succeeded in making a fire. This was done by taking the leaves of some books that had seen their best days, and protecting them from the