44 SADDLE AND CAMP 



Apache that night was quite out of the question, 

 and we accepted the invitation. 



We had traveled full fifteen miles after meet- 

 ing the Indians. This was a repetition of my 

 experience with northern tribes. Indians are 

 absolutely incapable of estimating distance by 

 the white man's standard. A mile means noth- 

 ing to them, and their maps, as a gauge of dis- 

 tance, are absolutely unreliable. 



Our horses hobbled and turned loose to graze 

 in the canon — this was in fact the junction of 

 three canons — we joined Rudd and Rogers at 

 the door of their rude quarters. It was a single 

 room affair constructed by the men themselves 

 with no other implements than a hammer and 

 axe, and of no other materials than those to be 

 found in the surrounding forest. 



Presently an open fire was lighted and in a 

 little while a delicious supper of hot biscuits — 

 baked in a "Dutch oven" — bacon, potatoes, 

 canned tomatoes, and coffee were steaming on a 

 table under the trees. To John and me these 

 were luxuries, for since leaving Shumway our 

 diet had consisted of trout, bacon, and squaw 

 bread. 



The meal disposed of and dishes washed, we 

 sat under the tall pines around the camp-fire 

 smoking and chatting while a gorgeous Arizona 



