CHAPTER TEN
THE TEXAS RANGERS
I came from Texas, like the bulk of you punchers, but a good whilebefore the most of you were born. That was forty-odd years ago--andI've been on the Colorado River ever since. That's why they call meColorado Rogers. About a dozen of us came out together. We had allbeen Texas Rangers, but when the war broke out we were out of a job.We none of us cared much for the Johnny Rebs, and still less for theYanks, so we struck overland for the West, with the idea of hitting theCalifornia diggings.
Well, we got switched off one way and another. When we got down toabout where Douglas is now, we found that the Mexican Government wasoffering a bounty for Apache scalps. That looked pretty good to us,for Injin chasing was our job, so we started in to collect. Did prettywell, too, for about three months, and then the Injins began to get tooscarce, or too plenty in streaks. Looked like our job was over with,but some of the boys discovered that Mexicans, having straight blackhair, you couldn't tell one of their scalps from an Apache's. Afterthat the bounty business picked up for a while. It was too much forme, though, and I quit the outfit and pushed on alone until I struckthe Colorado about where Yuma is now.
At that time the California immigrants by the southern route used tocross just there, and these Yuma Injins had a monopoly on the ferrybusiness. They were a peaceful, fine-looking lot, without a thing onbut a gee-string. The women had belts with rawhide strings hanging tothe knees. They put them on one over the other until they didn't feeltoo decollotey. It wasn't until the soldiers came that the officers'wives got them to wear handkerchiefs over their breasts. The systemwas all right, though. They wallowed around in the hot, clean sand,like chickens, and kept healthy. Since they took to wearing clothesthey've been petering out, and dying of dirt and assorted diseases.
They ran this ferry monopoly by means of boats made of tules, charged ascand'lous low price, and everything was happy and lovely. I ran on alittle bar and panned out some dust, so I camped a while, washing gold,getting friendly with the Yumas, and talking horse and other thingswith the immigrants.
About a month of this, and the Texas boys drifted in. Seems they sortof overdid the scalp matter, and got found out. When they saw me, theystopped and went into camp. They'd travelled a heap of desert, andwere getting sick of it. For a while they tried gold washing, but Ihad the only pocket--and that was about skinned. One evening a fellownamed Walleye announced that he had been doing some figuring, andwanted to make a speech. We told him to fire ahead.
"Now look here," said he, "what's the use of going to California? Whynot stay here?"
"What in hell would we do here?" someone asked. "Collect Gila monstersfor their good looks?"
"Don't get gay," said Walleye. "What's the matter with going intobusiness? Here's a heap of people going through, and more coming everyday. This ferry business could be made to pay big. Them Injinscharges two bits a head. That's a crime for the only way across. Andhow much do you suppose whisky'd be worth to drink after that desert?And a man's so sick of himself by the time he gets this far that he'dplay chuck-a-luck, let alone faro or monte."
That kind of talk hit them where they lived, and Yuma was founded rightthen and there. They hadn't any whisky yet, but cards were plenty, andthe ferry monopoly was too easy. Walleye served notice on the Injinsthat a dollar a head went; and we all set to building a tule raft likethe others. Then the wild bunch got uneasy, so they walked upstreamone morning and stole the Injins' boats. The Injins came after theminnocent as babies, thinking the raft had gone adrift. When they gotinto camp our men opened up and killed four of them as a kind of hint.After that the ferry company didn't have any trouble. The Yumas movedup river a ways, where they've lived ever since. They got the corpsesand buried them. That is, they dug a trench for each one and laidpoles across it, with a funeral pyre on the poles. Then they put thebody on top, and the women of the family cut their hair off and threwit on. After that they set fire to the outfit, and, when the poles badburned through, the whole business fell into the trench of its ownaccord. It was the neatest, automatic, self-cocking, double-actionsort of a funeral I ever saw. There wasn't any ceremony--only crying.
The ferry business flourished at prices which were sometimes hard tocollect. But it was a case of pay or go back, and it was a tur'ble longways back. We got us timbers and made a scow; built a baile and saloonand houses out of adobe; and called her Yuma, after the Injins that hadreally started her. We got our supplies through the Gulf ofCalifornia, where sailing boats worked up the river. People began tocome in for one reason or another, and first thing we knew we had astore and all sorts of trimmings. In fact we was a real live town.
Arizona Nights Page 10
