Across America; Or, The Great West and the Pacific CoastRusling, James Fowler
History
Across America; Or, The Great West and the Pacific Coast
Rusling, James Fowler
Overland journeys to the Pacific; Pacific States -- Description and travel; West (U.S.) -- Description and travel
The night passed wearily away, but without cause for alarm, and
early next morning we were again on the move. A drive, or rather
struggle, of three miles or so through the mesquite and chemisal,
brought us out to an ill-defined track, bearing away in the supposed
direction of Wickenburg (and so to Prescott), and we resolved to
take that, though certain it was not the regular road. We had heard
of a "cut-off," or by-road somewhere there, made by a Lt. Du Bois
some months before, and we concluded this must be his road. At all
events, we were desperately tired of struggling through the mesquite
and chemisal, and concluded we would follow this track up for a while
anyhow. It was lucky we did; for, after rather too much easting for
the first few miles, it finally struck directly across the Agua Frio,
and came into the true Prescott road near White Tanks. This Agua
Frio, usually one of Arizona's "dry rivers," we found with three
feet of water in it, and bad quicksands beneath that. However, we
discovered a practicable crossing, and soon after nightfall reached
the vicinity of White Tanks, some thirty miles, since morning.
Here we camped by the roadside, glad to have struck the regular
Wickenburg or Prescott road at last, and went supperless to sleep--for
fear our fire, if made, might disclose us to the Indians. We could find
no water for our poor animals, and the next morning would have missed
our accustomed coffee even, had we not taken the precaution to keep
our water-kegs well filled. Of course, we broke camp early, and moved
wearily on to the Hassayampa, some ten or twelve miles, where we halted
to water up and lunch. This Hassayampa, ordinarily, is another "dry
river," like the Agua Frio, but we found three feet or more of water
in it, and bottomless quicksands nearly everywhere. Our road, then
the only road from Southern to Northern Arizona, ran directly up the
Hassayampa, for some twelve or fifteen miles here, using the river-bed
as a roadway, as the only practicable route through the mountains, and
nobody had ventured through for a month or more.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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