ness. Indeed, it retained its snow-cap far into the hot summer months. The general course of the river at this point is a little east of south. The eye vainly followed its winding course for miles in either direction in quest of village or solitary dwelling. Not a human habitation could be seen. The handful of soldiers mounting guard upon the parade, to the music of trumpet, fife, and drum, but emphasized the solitude of the place. Trees marked the sinuous course of the stream, but the rest of the valley was bare of vegetation save patches of mesquite-bushes in the alluvial river-bottom, the ever-present cactus, aloe, and yucca, and a low growth of intermingled weeds and grasses, whose blended hues imparted to the valley a yellowish color. Dwarfed cedars and pinons barely existed upon the arid slopes of the Black Hills range, bounding the valley upon the west, and tall pines crowned their level summits.
I said there were no human habitations in sight; but closer scrutiny revealed stone edifices, erected by the hand of man, occupying commanding points upon the opposite side of the valley; huge piles of masonry, whose ruined walls still stand to a considerable height. Below these, emerging upon narrow ledges, in the face of the nearest cliffs, were lines of black holes, which I was told were entrances to the cave-dwellings of an extinct race of men. From the hospital piazza a view was obtained of a still more wonderful structure. In the vertical side of the cañon, through which Beaver Creek flows, a large building four or five stories high had been built by this people, whose only history is written in monumental ruins.
Before our departure from Fort Verde in 1888 three railroads had penetrated toward the heart of the wilderness by which we were surrounded. Settlers were thronging in to engage in lumbering, mining, or stock-grazing in the mountainous portions, or to cultivate the soil of the irrigable valleys. Already the valley of the Verde begins to assume somewhat of the appearance that it presented centuries ago, when irrigated and cultivated by the populous cliff-dwellers. Again the Indian corn rustles in the broad fields in autumn, and golden pumpkins and squashes cluster beneath the stalks. Childish voices are borne on the breeze: a new cycle begins.
Curiosity concerning the people whose stone buildings challenge attention from most of the prominent points along the Verde River and its tributary streams led me to pay some attention to the study of archaeology, and to form a collection of such relics as might shed light upon the history and habits of the builders.[1]
- ↑ This collection, comprising several thousand specimens, has been donated to the American Museum of Natural History, New York. The human skeletons and crania will be sent to the Army Medical Museum at Washington.