Trolius Stephens brought his wife overland by mule train from Nebraska in 1873. She was the first, and for several years, the only American woman in town, excepting Miss Parker who had been here eleven years before. They were the grandparents of Cecil Stephens of Arenas Valley. Both Mr. and Mrs. Stephens were interested in welfare of the people, they visited the sick, cared for the injured, and saw to it that no family was cold or hungry. He contended that a man was worth but $1.25 a day from the neck down but that there was no limit to his worth from the neck up. He paid accordingly. He could not or would not tolerate stealing. On one occasion when he noticed that wood was disappearing from the town’s large wood yard, and the man in charge of it said that he did not know how, when, or by whom, Mr. Stephens said he would “fix the guy.” He bored holes in several sticks of wood and put in dynamite. Before sunrise the next morning a mighty blast shook the town. Mr. Stephens rushed out and saw a roof rising into the brightening sky and above were several black disks, the lids from the kitchen stove—in the home of his cousin. Fuel for homes and mills was juniper and oak wood cut in the hills into cord lengths and packed into town by burros. Ore from the mines was taken to the mills in the same manner. Often there were as many as twenty burros to a train. The trails they used still stand out on the mountain sides, as do the old roads from the saw mills, where the logs were hauled out by oxen. Among the names of men who operated early sawmills are Ripley, Scott, McMillan, Brownell and Franey, who came in ’81 or ’82. He was joined in 1902 by his nephew, Thomas Foy, a rosy cheeked boy fresh from old Ireland. Later there were Davidson, Slack, Leonard, Mason and others. From the earliest days when both Mexicans and Americans traveled through the country they would camp at the springs the Mexicans had called Cienega de San Vicente. Miners from Pinos Altos tried raising corn and beans there, but being loathe to leave their diggings to care for the crops, Indians or animals destroyed them. Captain A. J. Hulburt, more daring and persistent than other miners, built a cabin and took his Mexican wife there to live during the growing season. He would ride to and from his mine, the “Texas” on the western slope of the mountain, a distance of seven miles. One day he left his rifle at the cabin with his wife and son and went out to plow his field. Looking up he saw Apaches between himself and the house. Knowing he could not rescue his family he ran to the mines, hoping his wife would be able to stand off the marauders until he could get help. Almost exhausted he gasped out his story. The men grabbed their guns, mounted their animals and hurried to the cabin, only to find it smouldering, the wife and son dead, and the Indians gone.