There’s a junction at a little Ari- 
zona town where a branch of the 
Santa Fe runs north to the grand 
canyon. The train was two hours 
late and fifty or more passengers were 
killing time, 
Three cowboys drove a big nail in 
the hard mud, and then from a mark 
ten or twelve feet away they began 
pitching nickels at the nail, the near- 
est one taking the three. 
Soon some miners, ranchmen and 
passengers took a hand in the gam- 
bling and as there soon became a 
shortage of nickels as one or two 
made steady winnings, then someone 
would propose a quarter throw “to 
get the nickels back into circulation.” 
The quarters soon were bunched up 
as the nickels had been, when a ranch- 
man about half drunk dared the 
others to make it a dollar a throw. 
All dropped out but five, They mark- 
ed their dollars and went to it, and 
five dollars changed hands about 
every five seconds. 
After a few minutes the five se- 
lected a “banker.” He had a box of 
safety matches. He sold each man 25 
for as many dollars, and when the 
train came they were getting about 
as quick action on money as any 
gambling layout I ever saw, and I 
was told one man lost $100 and 
another $xo. 
This incident is typical of Arizona 
and New Mexico. Gambling seems to 
be in the air, and about 90 per cent 
catch it. I remember three years ago 
of being at a cow camp for dinner, lo- 
cated on a mountain and overlooking 
a railroad about five miles away. 
There was a flag station on the des- 
ert. A train was coming, and every 
man, including the cook and myself, 
bet one way or another, on whether 
or not the train would stop that day. 
It was the daily gamble. One man 
took all bets, big or little, either way. 
I lost 50 cents. | gambled there was 
nothing the train should want to stop 
for, 
oI K 
In Needles, Cal., one hot night the 
last of September, there was a big 
crowd around the big depot, as the 
eastern train was in and stopped a 
half hour. There was a bunch of 
young fellows, plainly from the east, 
and they attracted much attention 
by their noisy ways and swagger 
tourist. uniforms. 
One of them was dolled up in Eng- 
NORTH SHORE BREEZE 
Strange Stories of Odd Corners 
| Little Stories of a Strange People and Strange Customs 
| By M. J. 
BROWN 
lish style, and he was certainly an ad- 
vertiser. 
This big station is a get together 
place for many Indians and squaws, 
who have all kinds of beads, robes, 
turquoise and like stuff to sell. 
The “fresh” boys would go from 
one to another, pull over their stuff, 
ask the price, try to “jolly” the In- 
dian girls, and attract attention, 
One fat squaw had some boys’ 
bows and arrows. ‘ihe English coun- 
terfeit took a bow, looked at it, took 
an arrow and shot it away across the 
track. The other boys laughed loudly 
at the “blood’s” tricks. ‘Then as he 
handed back the bow, the 200-lb. 
squaw threw her arms around him, 
hung on despite his struggles, and 
hugged him like a bear. 
The fellow didn’t object very stren- 
ously for he appeared to rather like 
the attention and the crowd he was 
attracting, 
Just then a baggageman; who was 
onto the game, sang out, just as a 
drill officer would call “present— 
arms.” Only this fellow called— 
“Body—LICE.” ; 
In a second the boy “was on,” and 
he struggled and cursed to get away. 
Then three other squaws joined in the 
hugging match, and it was only when 
the station policeman laughingly forc- 
ed them to “break away,” that the 
fellow was released, and he ran into 
his Pullman, followed by the jeering 
crowd. 
It was my bet he didn’t finish with 
that suit of clothes, and it was a bet 
with no takers. I long ago learned 
that “distance lends enchantment” 
and familiarity lends “seam  squir- 
felse 
feo 
Up in the Moqui country we stop- 
ped at a little trading store, and while 
we drank ginger ale the trader show- 
ed me a human stone hand, not mumi- 
fied, not osified, but stonefied—petri- 
fied flesh. 
It was but part of a hand, broken 
diagonally across from the thumb 
joint to the wrist joint. But it WAS 
a human hand. 
He said some miners found it and 
traded it to him for groceries, They 
set off a blast to break up a big rock 
wall at the mouth of a shaft, and a 
few days later found this part of a 
hand many rods from the place of 
explosion. 
The guess was that at the foot of 
this bluff an Indian had been buried 
years ago, and that the mineral sub- 
stances that seep down many of these 
cliffs had turned the body to stone. 
he explosion probably blew open the 
grave and shattered the stone man. 
They searched in vain for other piec- 
es. 
The hand was perfect, partially 
closed, the color of iron rust, and the 
minute wrinkles and pores of the skin 
were almost as easily seen as on a 
living hand, and where the break was 
could be seen the ends of the cords 
and arteries. 
I tried to buy it, but as he had 
written to a museum about it, he 
would not set any price until he heard 
from them. It was certainly a strange 
sight to see that human hand lying on 
the counter. 
oI 
In the Moqui country one day, tir- 
ing of the ride and taking a cross cut, 
I ran across two or three feathers, 
tied to a twig and the twig bent over 
and stuck in the ground. These are 
“prayer sticks,” the Indian’s way ot 
supplication, and they are always hid- 
den in some obscure spot. And the 
driver told me he would not care for 
the contract to take me safely out of 
the reservation if I molested those 
sticks and the Indians knew it. I had 
a yearning to take that prayer me- 
dium home with me, but I lost the 
yearn after the driver told me a scare 
story or two, 
IK 
A one armed Indian is a sight you 
probably never saw. They are few. 
I met one, a Navajo, on horseback, or 
rather he stopped where we were 
lunching, and asked the driver to put 
some tobacco in a cigarette paper. 
After this was done the Indian with 
one hand gave the paper and tobacco 
a roll and he had a better product 
than I could have made with both 
hands, and sitting on the ground. 
Years ago a trader and relic hunter 
came into the reservation, and made 
his home there the most of the time. 
Finally he married an Indian girl, but 
after a few months neglected her and 
was away from the reserve the most 
of the time. One day he returned 
gathered together his belongings and 
at night attempted to slip out. His 
Indian brother-in-law, warned by the 
deserted wife, laid for him. The white 
man was buried the next day and the 
Indian was taken to Gallup to have a 
shattered elbow attended to. Blood 
poisoning set in and the arm was am- 
putated, There were no. witnesses 
to the midnight duel, The Indian said 
it was self defense, and his arm, 
(Continued to page 16) 
