220 THE FORESTS AND DESERTS OF ARIZONA 



Higher above the 6,000-foot level and reaching to the tops at 

 10,000 feet at most, the pines appear, including several most in- 

 teresting species, which are at home further south in Mexico, 

 together with some of more northern nativity. 



In these mountains, within a day's ride from Tucson, we may 

 find the most lovel}^, cool recesses of a trout-stream either in the 

 Santa Catalina mountains or, with a few hours of railroad added, 

 in the Chiricahua range, where we may readily forget that we 

 are in the dryest and hottest — erroneously so believed — portion 

 of the United States. Here, at the higher elevations among the 

 pines, the air is most delightful, and while the days are just 

 about right, the nights may, even in September, be frosty enough 

 for a double blanket. Tucson being 2,400 feet above sea-level at 

 the eastern border of the desert is the rival of Phoenix ; not indeed 

 with regard to agricultural development, for this old presidio of 

 the Spaniard placed there to protect the mission of San Xavier 

 among the Papago Indians, still in existence, lies high and dry 

 beyond sufficient water supplies, unless some time artesian wells 

 may be developed ; but it is or will be a rival as a health resort, 

 excelling the capital in the conditions and quality of the air, 

 helpful in pulmonar}'- diseases. 



Returning to the plateaus of northern Arizona, there are two 

 trips which we must take together from Flagstaff, for without 

 them a visit to the territory is decidedly incomplete — one to aild 

 through the Painted desert to the villages of the Hopi Indians, 

 the other to the Grand Canon. 



Having heard that within three days the celebrated snake 

 dance is to take place at Oraibi, one of the Hopi villages 100 

 miles northward, we get ready our camp outfit for a plunge into 

 the desert. Once more we skirt the San Francisco mountains, 

 which will remain our guide and landmark through the whole 

 trip, visible at any time and to the last. Once more we pass 

 through the pine forest and over the black lava sands of the 

 juniper and pinon belt, coming out on the rocky limestone 

 plateau, with its scanty pasture and low shrub growth. 



Water is scarce on this trip, and although spring wells and 

 so-called tanks — clayey soil depressions and rock cavities in 

 which rain-waters collect — ma}^ be found at distances of 25 to 

 40 miles apart, it is safer to carry water in the approved fashion. 

 We reach the river, the Colorado Chiquito, or Little Colorado, 

 marked in the distance by the line of cottonwoods, on the morn- 



