This mining camp is ten miles from the New Mexico line, and forty
from Mexico. There are mountains all about, covered to the tops
with luxuriant grass, and juniper, pine, fir, cedar, and live-oak
trees. In the cañons, near the creeks, are sycamore, black-walnut,
white oak, madrone, and other varieties; also the lovely manganita,
and other shrubs. Many fruits and flowers are native here. Of the
former there are cherries, grapes, raspberries, strawberries, etc.;
among the latter, the geranium, morning-glory (all colors), poppy,
portulaca, and many more favorites that we used to cultivate in the
East. Potatoes also grow wild, and though very small, are good;
they are called "spuds" here.
Last summer we were encamped for two months in a cañon, six miles
from town, where are ever so many caves. We all went part of the
way through the largest--Coral Cave--one day. The entrance is on
the mountain-side, and so small that one person has to crawl or
"back" down at a time, looking out for bruises from projecting
rocks, and also he must have a care for his footing, for this
passage is very steep and winding; all at once it grows broad, and
very high. At this point all light their candles, as there are
other passages branching from the main one; and that we may not get
lost, we watch for the little "monuments" which have been built to
guide visitors to the main cavern.
It is a hard scramble of about 500 feet, past awful chasms, down
dizzy natural stairways, etc., then up a few steps, and--oh, it is
just like fairy-land, I am sure! The frost-like drapery and
festoons, sparkling and flashing at every movement of our lights,
the thousands of icicles and straight white columns, under our feet
the "snow," twinkling with innumerable diamonds, made me think we
were in Jack Frost's home beyond a doubt. But it was not snow nor
ice at all, but limestone formation; it was stalagmite on the
floors of all the chambers, and the crystals cut our boots
dreadfully.
As an offset to the pleasures of our happy camping ground in the
cañon, with its grand scenery, its woods, flowers, towering rocks,
rushing mountain stream, and springs of clear cold water, we had
scorpions, tarantulas, rattlesnakes, and loathsome centipeds. There
is also a very poisonous bug, called by a Spanish name which I have
forgotten; it means "babe of the wood." It is about two inches
long, of a rusty black color, and has claws something like a
lobster, as has the centiped, which is of a greenish color when
young, turning to yellow-brown when full grown. They (the
centipeds) are in sections or joints, each joint having one pair of
legs, which end in needlepoints, jet black, and charged with
poison. We killed _lots_. Many were ten inches in length; they can
run very fast. We never saw any of these creatures in our
sleeping-apartment; but about the rocks, in the small cave where we
cooked and took our meals, they, with lizards, chameleons, and
cunning little striped squirrels, were as much at home as we. Out
in the woods were wild animals to keep away from. Papa shot a big
brown bear one day, and a miner killed a very large panther. It is
a grand place to hunt in, as game is plentiful. We are interested
in "The Talking Leaves," here in the Apache country. I wish there
were no Apaches in the world! Sometimes the soldiers come through
here, and prospectors see squads of Indians in the mountains, and
we get scared. Last September papa sent mamma, brother, and me to
California to stay until the fright was over. We spent three months
at a bathing-place on the Pacific coast called Santa Monica, and
had fine times bathing, fishing, and playing on the beach. My mamma
gives us a "treat" Saturday afternoons by reading to us from back
numbers of YOUNG PEOPLE. All the children in camp who are old
enough to be interested are asked to come at three o'clock every
Saturday. We are now half through with "Toby Tyler." It is as good
as ever, and the boys all think it and YOUNG PEOPLE splendid.