Millions for Moisture 



225 



of scenic wonders, until we reach the 

 summit of Fish Creek Hill. The pano- 

 rama spread out before us is indescribably 

 beautiful. To the northward the Mazat- 

 zal Range culminates in the famous land- 

 mark, Four Peaks, 8,000 feet high. Below 

 us a sheer thousand feet lies Frasier's 

 Road-house, where we shall spend the 

 night. The dwellings and stables look 

 like toy houses. Along the edge of that 

 dizzy cliff the road has been literally 

 carved from solid rock. It would be sim- 

 ply terrifying but for the broad and com- 

 fortable roadway which we pass over. 

 At the lower end, where Fish Creek 

 emerges from a narrow box canyon, we 

 cross a substantial bridge 50 feet above 

 the stream, and then descend to the little 

 flat on which the road-house is built. 



The comfortable quarters, the excellent 

 meals, and the inspiring scenery make 

 this night one of delightful memory. We 

 have slept in a canyon which a short time 

 ago was inaccessible, a miniature Grand 

 Canyon of the Colorado. 



The climb out of Fish Creek flat to the 

 government camp above Roosevelt is a 

 repetition of the experience of the day be- 

 fore. Great cuts have been made through 

 solid rock ; at places we skirt the edge of 

 dark chasms, at others the road seems to 

 terminate in blind canyons. After a long 

 swing on the brink of a profound gorge 

 we reach the top of the mountain through 

 which the Salt River has cut its way. 

 Here is another inspiring view. Below 

 us the river, like a silver thread, rushes 

 through a deep and shadowy canyon. 

 Looking down through a confusion of 

 cables and wires, we see an army of men 

 at work far below the river bed, laying 

 massive rocks two and three tons in 

 weight in layers of cement. The bed- 

 rock has been swept as clean as the floor 

 of a careful housewife's, kitchen, and 

 every rock that goes into that structure 

 is washed thoroughly before being set in 

 place. Watchful inspectors hover about, 

 carefully safeguarding every detail of the 

 work. 



A CITY BUILT TO Bg TORN DOWN 



Eastward and northward is a broad 

 flat, across which the Salt River and 

 Tonto Creek flow, to mingle their 

 waters just above the mouth of the gorge. 

 In the foreground is the bustling city of 

 Roosevelt — a city of transient renown; 

 for it was actually built to be torn 

 down — a city well lighted, with its own 

 water supply from distant mountain 

 springs, with schools and stores — all 

 doomed to extinction in a short year. 



On our right the government cement 

 mill gives noisy evidence that Uncle Sam 

 is a manufacturer. Night and day his 

 plant is grinding out the best cement ever 

 made, and ere the mill has finished its 

 work 240,000 barrels will have been used 

 in the dam. The skips swing ceaselessly 

 back and forth on cables from the mill 

 down to the dam site, carrying alternate 

 loads of cement and sand, the latter from 

 the rock crusher just below the mill. 



Several hundred feet below where we 

 stand, in a niche cut in the solid walls of 

 the canyon, is a power plant, utilizing a 

 drop of 220 feet by means of a tunnel and 

 supplying 4,000 horse-power for all pur- 

 poses. It operates the mill, sand crusher, 

 the machinery for the contractor, and af- 

 fords electric light for everybody. Its 

 supply comes from a power canal 17 

 miles in length, in many places lined with 

 cement. 



It is a sight never to be forgotten, to 

 stand on this cliff at night and through 

 the myriads of electric globes watch the 

 busv toilers laying the huge blocks of 

 s'-^ue. 



One of the world's greatest dams is 

 buii.'ing. A beautiful curve of masonry 

 IS slowly rising in the river bed, a ma- 

 sonry monolith against which a turbulent 

 river will beat itself into stillness, its foam 

 and spume lost in a deep lake 25 miles 

 long and 2 miles wide. In that lake the 

 town of Roosevelt will be submerged 200 

 feet deep. 



A quarter of a century ago this partic- 

 ular rearion was the haunt of Geronimo 



