THE CONDOR 
VOL. V 
1 16 
were seeing aright. Goats m trees ! Yes, it was all right, and there in the sprawl- 
ing junipers, feeding or resting, were numbers of white Angora goats, the chief 
product of the country, as comfortably at home as cats ! We soon left the goat 
country, and went up through 
the bigger growth of the up- 
per Transition Zone, and 
finally came down again into 
the semi-tropical atmosphere 
of ‘Dog Canyon’. Up through 
this broad, waterless, sun- 
baked basin we worked, un- 
til sixty miles further up we 
came again into the junipers 
and yellow pines. Oak- 
covered hills rose at our sides 
and ahead of us, ending in 
barren rock ridges fifteen 
hundred or two thousand feet 
above us. The high gulches 
were rich in timber but poor 
CHISOS MOUNTAINS FROM BELOW ROCK SPRING . . 
in siiriace water. I his place 
was the last stand of the Mescalero Apaches, and tlieir weed-grown me.scal pits, 
arrowheads and bits of broken pottery gave evidence of their happy days as plain- 
ly as the corroded cartridges of the old Government “Henry .50’s’’ th it we found, 
attested to their final destruction. New things attracted ns here, and our stay of 
four days was among the pleasantest 
of our summer’s experiences. 'I'he 
gulches offered most of interest, so 
three of our days were spent in work- 
ing between camp and the crests, 
8500 feet above sea. But we had come 
into this camp in the late afternoon, 
and had had no opportunity to look 
over the hot basin. 
So I decided, on our last afternoon, 
to make a good strong search of tlie 
lower levels, and started from camp 
at about two o’clock with a visitor 
who had “met up with us,’’ and who 
said he would like to go out. We 
went ‘down gulch,’ and had hardly 
been out half an hour when we 
heard the old familiar seductive call: 
Mearns quail three points off the 
weather bow ! 
Well, soon after w'e put them up: 
my friend got one and I another. 
MEARNS QUAIL, WHITE MTS., N. M. 
Ihey were cock and hen, both well 
shot and in strangely good feather for the time of year. He was good enough to say 
he had shot his for me, and in less than an hour I was back at camp, happy as a 
king, painting ?)iy Mearns quail. Thus ended the last chance, for the next day 
before sun-up we broke camp and left the mountains for good. 
