In the forenoon the clouds begin
to gather and pile up in dark billowy masses that end in showers
during the afternoon and evening. But not every rain cloud
brings rain. Clouds of this character often look very
threatening, but all their display of thunder and lightning is
only bluff and bluster and ends in a fizzle with no rain. After
such a demonstration the clouds either bring wind and a
disagreeable dust storm, or, if a little rain starts to fall, the
air is so dry that it evaporates in mid air, and none of it ever
reaches the earth. In this fashion the clouds often threaten to
do great things, only to break their promise; and the anxious
rancher stands and gazes at the sky with longing eyes, only to be
disappointed again and again.
As a rule water is scarce. A long procession of cloudless days
merge into weeks of dry weather; and the weeks glide into months
during which time the brazen sky refuses to yield one drop of
moisture either of dew or rain to the parched and thirsty earth.
Even the rainy season is not altogether reliable, but varies
considerably one year with another in the time of its appearance
and continuance.
The soil is sandy and porous and readily absorbs water, except
where the earth is tramped and packed hard by the cattle. One
peculiarity of the country as found marked upon the maps, and
that exists in fact, is the diminution and often complete
disappearance of a stream after it leaves the mountains. If not
wholly lost upon entering the valley the water soon sinks out of
sight in the sand and disappears and reappears at irregular
intervals, until it loses itself entirely in some underground
channel and is seen no more.
Many a pleasant valley in the range country is made desolate by
being destitute of any surface spring or running brook, or water
that can be found at any depth. Occasionally a hidden fountain
is struck by digging, but it is only by the merest chance. Wells
have been dug to great depths in perfectly dry ground in an eager
search for water without finding it, and such an experience is
usually equivalent to a failure and the making of a useless bill
of expense.
A never-failing spring of good water in sufficient quantity to
supply the needs of a ranch in the range country is of rare
occurrence, considering the large territory to be supplied. Only
here and there at long intervals is such a spring found, and it
is always a desirable and valuable property. It makes an oasis
in the desert that is an agreeable change from the surrounding
barrenness, and furnishes its owner, if properly utilized, a
comfortable subsistence for himself and herds. His fields
produce without fail and the increase of his flocks and herds is
sure.
The isolated rancher who is well located is independent. He is
in no danger of being crowded by his neighbors nor his range
becoming over stocked with stray cattle. His water right gives
him undisputed control of the adjacent range, even though he does
not own all the land, which is an unwritten law of the range and
respected by all cattlemen.
Because of the scarcity of water the range country is sparsely
settled and always will be until more water is provided by
artificial means for irrigation. Even then a large portion of
the land will be worthless for any other purpose than grazing,
and stock-growing on the open range in Arizona will continue to
be a staple industry in the future as it has been in the past.
The range is practically all occupied and, in many places, is
already over stocked. Where more cattle are run on a range than
its grass and water can support there is bound to be some loss.
In stocking a range an estimate should be made of its carrying
capacity in a bad year rather than in a good one, as no range can
safely carry more cattle than it can support in the poorest year;
like a chain, it is no stronger than its weakest link.
A good range is sometimes destroyed by the prairie dog. Wherever
he establishes a colony the grass soon disappears. He burrows in
the ground and a group of such holes is called a dog town. Like
the jack-rabbit he can live without water and is thus able to
keep his hold on the desert. The only way to get rid of him is
to kill him, which is usually done by the wholesale with poison.
His flesh is fine eating, which the Navajo knows if the white man
does not. The Navajo considers him a dainty morsel which is
particularly relished by the sick. If a patient can afford the
price, he can usually procure a prairie dog in exchange for two
sheep.
The Navajo is an adept at capturing this little animal. The
hunter places a small looking-glass near the hole and, in
concealment near by, he patiently awaits developments.
When the prairie dog comes out of his hole to take an airing
he immediately sees his reflection in the glass and takes it
for an intruder. In an instant he is ready for a fight and
pounces upon his supposed enemy to kill or drive him away.
While the prairie dog is thus engaged wrestling with his
shadow or reflection the hunter shoots him at close range with
his bow and arrow - never with a gun, for if wounded by a
bullet he is sure to drop into his hole and is lost, but the
arrow transfixes his body and prevents him from getting away.
He has been hunted so much in the Navajo country that he has
become very scarce.[1]
