50 THE NAUTILUS. 



outfitted for the Chiricahua Mts. We went as far as old Fort Bowie. 

 It was rather cold. Some mornings we crawled out from under 

 snow-banks. Water was scarce, and our guides inexperienced. We 

 were after birds, ferns, snap shots and Indian relics, and at the end 

 of two weeks had found only four snails Sonorclla hachitana Dull, 

 Ashmunella walkeri Ferriss, A. levettei Bid., and a Physa. 



Former information told me the Chiricahuas were unexplored, and 

 were occasionally exploited by the Apaches. By cautious approaches 

 we made our way to the fort, now occupied by a single miner only. 

 Here we learned there had been no raids for five years, and that the 

 mountains were safe as the streets of Philadelphia. 



At the fort Mr. Woodruff turned back to El Paso and Albuquer- 

 que. With a miner, ponies and a burro 1 pushed into the higher 

 peaks. These run up about 8,000 feet. We pitched our tent in 

 Cave Creek Canyon, and altogether it was a delightful situation, 

 caves, strange birds and plants, mountain streams, heavy forests, 

 every day perfect, good folks, and new shells around every point. 

 The miner herded the ponies, prepared warm suppers, and my regu- 

 lar daily grist was two shells I had never seen, and a new fern to 

 the territory. The last day we packed up and visited a ca\e a 

 quarter mile from our camp. Upon our return we found four snails 

 we had never seen. Two were new species. 



The next day we rode up a wagon road to a saw mill in a heavy 

 pine forest at the top of the mountain. I walked a little and found 

 one new species, two varieties and two I had not seen in the terri- 

 tory. This was a government forest reserve, and here we found 

 Chas. T. McGlone, of Ashland, Ky., in charge, with a lion hunter 

 for a partner, and the partner had a fiddle. The canyons are deep, 

 heavily wooded and well watered; and truly at parting my heart 

 was heavy. I know many species of snails were left behind. 



The mountains seem rather difficult to reach from the railroads. 

 They are far away, cattle ranches are about ten miles apait, and 

 there are no stages or hotels, but the approach is easy enough, like, 

 snail hunting itself, when you catch on. From the Huachuca 

 station on the Sonora branch of the Southern Pacific I walked fifteen 

 miles across the plain to a canyon formerly visited, and in the next 

 month wore out another pair of hob nails. I left home with rheuma- 

 tism, dyspepsia and several more or less important defects, but was 

 so busy no inventory had been taken since crawling out of the snow 



