ALONG OUR SIDE OF THE MEXICAN BORDER 



63 



done a "hitch" on the Mexican border, 

 what he thinks, for instance, of Ajo or 

 the Yuma sector (see map, page 75). 



From the Gulf up to El Paso, along 

 the Texas frontier, the Rio Grande 

 forms the boundary between the United 

 States and [Mexico ; thence to the Pacific 

 coast the line is marked by stone or iron 

 monuments (save a short break at the 

 Colorado), so set that one is supposed 

 to be visible from another. By this plan 

 a soldier, miner, or cowman (yes, and a 

 smuggler, too) can always tell which side 

 of the line he is on ; or, if wholly lost 

 and he comes suddenly on a monument, 

 he can soon get oriented. 



The Rio Grande part of this border 

 has caused both Uncle Sam and Mexico 

 much work and mental anguish. During 

 bad floods the line as formed by the river 

 squirms around in so astonishing and 

 lively a manner that what is Mexican soil 

 one day may be in Texas the next, and 

 vice versa. 



Then, too, there is the ever-recurring 

 problem of dividing the waters of the 

 river for irrigating purposes. Around 

 such places as Laredo, Texas, this situ- 

 ation affords many an acrimonious inter- 

 national argument, especially during the 

 low-water period in the summer. 



Sometimes the Texans open their 

 sluices and threaten the ruin of the little 

 fincas on the opposite bank; then the 

 brown brother recalls the time when the 

 grand Mexican State of Coahuila ex- 

 tended westward to the Pacific Ocean 

 and almost up to Kansas City, Missouri, 

 and his remarks are quite untranslatable. 



When there is a heavy snowfall in the 

 mountains of New Mexico and Colorado, 

 the spring freshets fill the Rio Grande 

 with a flood that brooks no turning; 

 weirs, gates, and bridges are swept away, 

 the river banks and the adjacent farms 

 are often submerged, and the nagging 

 contestants for the river's midsummer 

 favors are forced to flee to the highlands. 



RAILROADS THAT CUT THE BORDER 



Railroads cut this long border line at 

 Brownsville, Laredo, Eagle Pass, and El 

 Paso, Texas ; at Douglas, Naco, and 

 Nogales, in Arizona, and at Calexico and 

 Tia Juana, in California. Only four of 

 these railroads, however, are main lines 

 of through traffic that penetrate the in- 



terior of Mexico ; these start at Laredo, 

 Eagle Pass, El Paso, and Xogales. 



Mexico itself, area considered, has 

 comparatively few miles of railroad, and 

 there is no line traversing its northern 

 frontier east and west, like our Southern 

 Pacific, which practically parallels most 

 of our southern border. 



Mexicans are restless. The peons like 

 to ride. Whenever they have saved 

 money from a few days' work, they 

 swarm up and down these lines to border 

 towns, carrying women, children, bird- 

 cages, blanket rolls, and family utensils r 

 running to and fro apparently as aim- 

 lessly as the inhabitants of a disturbed- 

 ant-hill. 



ALONG THE TEXAN FRONTIER 



You visualize the bigness of Texas 

 when you look at the length of its side 

 that borders on Mexico. It has been said 

 that "if you should tip the State up and 

 drop it north, like a flapjack, it would 

 fall on St. Paul ; tip it east and it would 

 splash in the Atlantic ; south, it would 

 blot out most of Mexico." Its area is 

 more than double that of the British 

 Isles. 



You realize its emptiness, too, when 

 you travel through some of its border 

 regions, where the population is less than 

 two per square mile. If all the people in 

 the United States were put in Texas, it 

 would still be scarcely more than two 

 thirds as crowded as England. 



No section of the border has seen so 

 much of adventure, tragedy, and turbu- 

 lent activity as Texas. The flags of 

 France, Spain, and Mexico have waved 

 over it ; for a time it flew its own Lone 

 Star and also the Confederate flag. 



"If I owned Hades and Texas, I'd rent 

 Texas and live in the other place," Phil 

 Sheridan said when, as a young lieuten- 

 ant, he stood "The Watch on the Rio 

 Grande," way back in the 50's. But since 

 then Texas, like Arizona, has cast out its 

 devils. It was absolutely "bone dry" long 

 before July 1, 1919 ; today only the police 

 can "tote" guns ; poker is taboo, and even 

 bridge for a cent a point may land you 

 in the "hoose gow" — Texas for juzgado 

 (jail). 



In Brownsville you hear more Spanish 

 than English, because most of the 8,000 

 people who live there are Mexicans. Till 



