In a ledge of granite rock by the wayside were cut a number of round holes which the Indians had made and used as mills for grinding their corn and seeds into meal. Nearby also, were some mescal pits used for baking the agave, a native plant that is in great demand as food by the Indians. The spot was evidently an old rendezvous where the marauding Apaches were accustomed to meet in council to plan their bloody raids, and to feast on mescal and pinole in honor of some successful foray or victory over an enemy.
We next crossed several well-worn Indian trails which the Apaches had made by many years of travel to and fro between their rancherias in the Mogollon mountains and Mexico. The sight of these trails brought us back to real life and a conscious sense of danger, for were we not in an enemy's country and in the midst of hostile Indians? Nearly every mile of road traveled had been at some time in the past the scene of a bloody tragedy enacted by a savage foe. Even at that very time the Apaches were out on the warpath murdering people, but fortunately we did not meet them and escaped unmolested.
The road now crossed a low hill, which was the signal for more trouble. The team started bravely up the incline, but soon stopped and then balked and all urging with whip and voice failed to make any impression. After several ineffectual attempts to proceed it was decided not to waste any more time in futile efforts. The horses were unhitched and the wagon partly unloaded, when all hands by a united pull and push succeeded in getting the wagon up the hill. After reloading no difficulty was experienced in making a fresh start on a down grade, but a little farther on a second and larger hill was encountered, when the failure to scale its summit was even greater than the first. No amount of coaxing or urging budged the horses an inch. They simply were stubborn and would not pull.
Night was approaching and camp was yet some distance ahead. The driver suggested that the best thing to do under the circumstances was for the rest of us to take the led horses and ride on to camp, while he would remain with the wagon and, if necessary, camp out all night. We reluctantly took his advice, mounted our horses and finished our journey in the twilight.
Aaron, who was housekeeper at the ranch, gave us a hearty welcome and invited us to sit down to a bountiful supper which he had prepared in anticipation of our coming. Feeling weary after our ride we retired early and were soon sound asleep. The only thing that disturbed our slumbers during the night was a coyote concert which, as a "concord of sweet sounds was a dismal failure" but as a medley of discordant sounds was a decided success. The bark of the coyote is particularly shrill and sharp and a single coyote when in full cry sounds like a chorus of howling curs.
We were all up and out early the next morning to witness the birth of a new day. The sunrise was glorious, and bright colors in many hues flashed across the sky. The valley echoed with the cheerful notes of the mocking bird and the soft air was filled with the fragrance of wild flowers. The scene was grandly inspiring and sent a thrill of pleasure through every nerve.
While thus absorbed by the beauties of nature we heard an halloo, and looking down the road in the direction of the driver's bivouac we saw him coming swinging his hat in the air and driving at a rapid pace that soon brought him to the ranch house. In answer to our inquiries as to how he had spent the night he reported that the horses stood quietly in their tracks all night long, while he slept comfortably in the wagon. In the morning the horses started without undue urging as if tired of inaction and glad to go in the direction of provender. They were completely broken by their fast and after that gave no further trouble.
After a stay of four weeks, learning something of the ways of ranch life and experiencing not a few exciting adventures, I returned home feeling well pleased with my first trip to the ranch.
