12 THE DESERT AND THE ROSE 



the Rio Grande smitten by the sunlight gleaming 

 here and there its length along — lies beneath us, a 

 Vale of Promise, protected by the western mesa and 

 far mountain ranges. Behind us rise the Organs, 

 rich in ore. In the centre of the Valley picture 

 crouches the town, boasting at this date only a few 

 of the brick buildings, including so-called bunga- 

 lows, in which those who prefer Progress to Com- 

 fort may be as uncomfortable as they please. A 

 mile or two to the southward we see the College of 

 Agriculture and Mechanic Arts, already equipped 

 with an experiment station, although destined to a 

 larger and more far-reaching future. 



In another place the cultivation of this fruit- 

 ful Vale since prehistoric times will be spoken of 

 more in detail. Its later history is concerned with 

 its struggle for civilized settlement, beginning about 

 1825 and subsiding into tranquillity some time in 

 the 1880's, when the Atchison, Topeka and Santa 

 Fe railroad was completed. Las Cruces has well 

 earned its name of The Crosses. In days not so 

 long past cross after cross dotted the soil, marking 

 the spots where each in his turn American or Mex- 

 ican settler succumbed to the tomahawk of the 

 Apache, and long after my first acquaintance with 

 the Valley one large cross in front of the Catholic 

 church bore the inscription TO THE UNKNOWN 

 DEAD. Haciendas, or fortified dwellings, still 

 exist, each built around a patio, its outer windows 

 missing or inconspicuous, and in one wall a great 

 arched gateway for the admission of wagons when 

 Apaches were a perpetual menace. A drive down 



