THE REGION OF THE PETRIFIED FORESTS

At breakfast the following morning, Mr. Gilroy outlined the trip. “We’ll leave here immediately after we’re through eating, and ride to the first forest, which I’m told is only six miles away. The second forest is three miles south and east of the first one. But Chalcedony Park, the third forest, is about thirteen miles south and west of here, and Rainbow Forest is another two miles in a northwesterly direction from the third one.

“I’ve learned that the roads are fine, the grades are easy, and camping facilities are excellent. So why leave the horses here for two or three days to eat their old heads off while we pay for their holiday and at the same time have to hire a team or two for the outing? No, sir! We’ll take our camp outfit with us and give the horses plenty of time in which to amble to the first and second forests.

“We’ll camp to-night and go on to the third forest to-morrow morning. It is only a hop, skip and a jump from Chalcedony Park to Rainbow Forests, so we can do that on our way back to Adamana. Now who wants to object to my motion?” Mr. Gilroy gazed at his friends but no one opposed the program. Instead, they all approved, and he added: “Motion made, seconded and carried by the chairman—he being the whole thing.”

Tally had been told to stock up for a few days’ camp, and this being done and the horses saddled, he brought them up to the front of the Forest House and waited. But he had not long to wait.

The scouts came hurrying out while discussing with Mr. Gilroy the interesting process that took place in order to petrify the trees to their present state of preservation.

With a smiling good-morning to Tally the scout-party climbed into the saddles and started on the trail; Tally, with the three pack-horses, bringing up the rear.

As they rode, Mr. Gilroy explained the cause of the Petrified Forests. As he had proved to be so interesting in the Rockies the previous summer when he described the formation of the glaziers, so now he entertained the girls with his explanations.

“Way back in the days when this earth was young, ages before the grasses and flowers appeared, and very many aeons before the birds and beasts were dreamed of, these grand old forest trees stood and flourished.

“The floods had not yet come, though the times were at hand. The rain began to fall in its customary manner, therefore the trees thought nothing of such a natural occurrence. But it kept on raining without cessation; rather, indeed, did the downpour of water increase, and the wise old fellows of the forest trees began to grumble and wonder ‘when, in thunder, the bloomin’ thing would end.’” An appreciative giggle told Mr. Gilroy that every one was attending.

“Then came a torrential emptying of the clouds, and the winds rose, until, finally, these great monarchs of the forests were torn loose from their roothold in the steep sides of the mountain and went crashing down.

“Still the heavens remained open and poured out its fountains of water; still the wind blew a gale up the deep ravines, and down from the peaks, and more trees were snapped above the ground, or wrenched loose from their anchorage, and all were sent upon the torrents which rushed down the mountain sides to the valleys below.

“The floods increased, until the waters met waters and rushed on, filling the ravines, the valleys, and all the lowlands about here.

“Upon the bosom of the torrents went the trees, crashing into each other, being rolled and tossed up and down, back and forth, till all branches and boughs, all but the trunks, were stripped clean.

“At last they were pitched into a great water-filled valley that looked like a lake, or inland sea, with its vast area of floods filling it from mountainside to mountainside, and with no visible outlet. Here the bereft trees were trapped. No tides to carry them away, no outlet to drain the water. Some were piled up like jack-straws, others were thrown off by themselves, but all were torn and stripped of their beauty as they had stood and defied the world at their feet.

“Then the storms and the gales ceased. But the mountains were now bared. Without the trees to protect it, the earth on the mountainsides was washed away in the succeeding storms. Then the naked rocks were seen, and in time they, too, were washed down into the valley-lake where the trees were packed this way and that way.

“Hundreds, yea thousands of years passed, and this lake, with its mass of tree-skeletons, and the variegated waters caused by the escape of mineral coloring from the rocks, slowly evaporated and slowly deposited its massed rocks and conglomerate debris into rifts and caÑons; many of the trees were covered with the dirt of centuries and are now being discovered and revealed to admiring eyes. We see them now, not as the grand old trees that ruled the forests, but as columns marbled in the most exquisite colors and patterns, and all dyed by the same process of Nature’s art-shop.”

As Mr. Gilroy concluded his story of the Petrified Forests, the scouts realized that they were almost there—at the Inland Lake of primeval times which had left such marvelous records of the Great Storm.

That day the tourists visited everything worth seeing in the two Petrified Forests, the second one covering an area of over two thousand acres. The girls marveled at the huge fallen tree trunks, the old giants of that long-ago mountainside, now transformed into agate and onyx with beautiful marblings of rich crimson, pastel greens, royal purples, dazzling gold—all woven and twisted together. Here and there glistened crystals, pure and transparent as diamonds. But whence came they?

In the first forest the scattering of the petrified trees gave the elements a better opportunity to polish them, hence the colors may be said to be more intense. Also erosion played a big part, and this created fantastic figures of the petrified mass it carved. In this way the Eagle’s Head came to be in the first forest.

The Petrified Bridge, also in the first forest, is a great trunk which crosses a ravine about fifty feet wide. The length of this agate bridge is about 111 feet, but it is estimated that the full length of the tree-trunk must have been about 40 or 50 feet before it was broken and petrified.

That evening, with the sun setting upon the rainbow-colored forests which were in plain sight of the camp, the scouts ate supper and speculated on what wonders in Chalcedony Park and Rainbow Forests the morrow might have in store for them.

Although the third and fourth forests were intensely interesting, they failed to make the same deep impression on the minds of the scouts as the first one had done. Nevertheless the entire party found plenty of things to see to fill a day, and they started back for Adamana with so many mental pictures of the Petrified Trees that Mr. Gilroy said that they would surely dream of them that night. However, his prediction failed to come true, as every one was so healthily tired out that sleep proved to be too deep for dreams that night.

At the comfortable little inn of Adamana the host said: “You really ought to visit the Lava Fields and Sunset Crater now that you’re so near them. Then there’s Diablo CaÑon on the trail, and Meteorite Mountain only ten miles from Diablo. Then take the train to Williams, if you can’t take time to go horseback through the San Francisco Mountains; there you can change to the spur that runs to the Grand CaÑon.”

Though the scouts were impatient to arrive at the wonderful lode-star that had beckoned them West, they signified their willingness to defer that moment when they should stand on the rim of the world and gaze at the awful rent in Mother Earth’s garment—a rent over a hundred miles in length, eighteen miles in width, and over a mile in depth, all to be seen in one sweeping glance from a point which projects from the upper level of the ground at the top of the CaÑon.

“I was going to add,” said the host, “that being this far up the trail it would be a crime for you not to ride on to Flagstaff, where you ought to visit the Lowell Observatory. Go there at night, and be introduced to the stars in the heavens.”

It was due to this man’s suggestions and the scouts’ obedience to his advice, that the citizens of Elmertown were treated to several articles signed “Juliet Lee.” The first one read:

“At Sunset Crater and the Lava Fields to-day we could see hundreds of square miles of volcanic activities. The most interesting of these lava flows and extinct craters is one which is plainly visible from the Santa FÉ railroad. It shines resplendent as though the sun were casting its red-gold rays upon the crest of the peak. It is said that the particles of iron in the rock of which this mountain is formed has oxidized and now presents the glowing color of sunset; when seen in this remarkable air of Arizona you can imagine the sun is shining forever upon that volcano.”

Another day the readers of the Record were treated to a graphic bit about Meteorite Mountain.

“We rode to Meteorite Mountain, which is a peculiar mound about two hundred feet high. Even before we reached it we saw pieces of meteoric iron scattered about, seeming to bear out the theory of our scientists that the meteor struck here, exploded, and blasted the hole into which it fell, leaving the great rim of upturned earth two hundred feet high that constitutes the mound.

“We climbed this mound and found the huge bowl at the top to be more than a mile deep, with more than forty acres area at the bottom. If you care to see what the fearful effect would be of hurling a blazing meteor from the sky and having it strike a soft globe of earth, just climb up to the steeple of the Elmertown Church and drop a rock about the size of a water-melon into a large mud-puddle. The rock may not splash, but the puddle would.

“Fancy, then, this red-hot ball of metal, heated to almost a molten state by the velocity it had attained in being hurled through a million miles of space, and being attracted by force of gravitation to our pleasant little planet!

“On our ride from Meteorite Mountain we collected different pieces of the particles of Meteoric rock which can be found strewn over the surrounding area for many miles around. But none of these metallic pieces had life enough to attract a needle.

“One gentleman whom we met in CaÑon Diablo told us there were diamonds to be found hidden in the small meteorites. Dear friends in Elmertown, your girl scouts may yet succeed in placing their native place on the map and have it a head-liner in the great metropolitan daily papers, for we have collected so many meteorites that it is possible, nay it is probable, that we shall find diamonds in our samples.”

In another issue of the paper Julie had an article on CaÑon Diablo which they visited the day after going to Meteorite Mountain.

“Although we could have glimpsed the CaÑon Diablo from the train which crosses this chasm on a threadlike steel bridge two hundred and fifty feet high, we had decided to trail to Flagstaff in order to see everything on the way, to say nothing of glorying in the air and the omnipresent coloring of sky and land in this marvelous section of America.

“CaÑon Diablo is a unique result of volcanic eruption. It is a narrow chasm not much wider than six hundred feet, but it is several miles long, and from two to three hundred feet deep. Picture to yourself a jagged, awe-inspiring cleft in our earth which, from the peculiar coloring of the rocky walls, looks as if a perpetual fire burned there. Even the atmosphere causes one to fancy that there must be smoke rising from this scene of Satan’s camp fire.”

There was so much to be seen in every direction all along this wonder route of New Mexico and Arizona that the scouts felt as if a year would be all too short a time in which to visit the places they yearned to see. As for two months! Well, that was only a taste of the delights in touring this land.

For instance, while crossing the Painted Desert Lo had said: “Boss, you tek fren’s to see CaÑon de Chelly sure! I show you dere our Navajo Fort, and fines’ CaÑon scenery in worl’.”

But the tempting offer had to be refused for lack of time. Thinking that the halting manner in which the refusal was made might be overcome, Lo added: “You see Monument CaÑon, the famous Rainbow Bridge, and the CaÑon del Muerto where mummy caves are viseeted. Mebbe you buy wonder blankets mek by Navajo up CaÑon Chelly, eh?”

Again at Ream’s CaÑon, the trader had advised the scouts to be sure to trail up to Tuba city.

“If you want to see the most wonderful cliff-dwellings in the west, you really must visit those of Betatakin and Kitsiel on your way to Tuba.

“Then you should take plenty of time to visit the Hopi villages, in order to get acquainted with them; to get photographs of the squaws building the houses while their lords sit smoking their pipes and boss the work. If you are favored, because of the girl scouts here, you may snap the pictures while the Hopis do their tribal dance. You may persuade one of their shamans, or medicine men, to tell you a thrilling story of old.”

Mr. Gilroy had to reply regretfully: “We haven’t the time to visit these interesting places. The girls have to be back home for school by the middle of September.”

Again, after visiting the Petrified Forests, the scouts were advised to see, without fail, the many amazing sights to be found in the San Francisco Mountains.

To this advice from the host, the same answer as given Lo and the trader, was made: “We haven’t time for all, but we do expect to visit the Walnut CaÑon and the Lava Fields on our way to Flagstaff.”

The final temptation was offered the scouts while they were stopping in Flagstaff. They had visited the Lowell Observatory at night as had been advised, and were back at the hotel when the manager addressed Mr. Gilroy.

“I suppose you are going to take in Montezuma’s Castle and well, so long as you are here.”

But these interesting points were forty-seven miles south of Flagstaff. To ride there on horseback or to go in a wagon meant several days’ extra time, and that much to be deducted from the time on hand in which to complete this tour. Hence the scouts had to forego the pleasure of that side trip or stop there when they traveled southward from Ash Fork.

Before leaving Flagstaff Mr. Gilroy telegraphed the horse-dealer at Trinidad for instructions regarding the return of the saddle-horses which they would no longer use or need after reaching Williams. The answer came in a few hours time: “Ship back freight collect.”

“Well, girls, you’ll soon say farewell to the horses, consequently you may have your choice of riding them to Williams, or sending them home from here,” said Mr. Gilroy after reading the telegram to them.

The distance from Flagstaff to Williams was so negligible, and the roads so good, that the scouts preferred riding instead of taking the train. At Williams, however, the saddle horses were sent home as requested, and Tally found a buyer for the three pack-horses as well as the outfits for camping. When he handed the money received for the horses to Mr. Gilroy, he grinned and said:

“You travel cheapes’ any one I ever see, Boss.”

“Why? What’s all this money for?” asked Mr. Gilroy.

“T’ree pack-horses in St Michael’s cos’ you sixity-fife dollar. Here in William I sell he’em fer t’irty dollar each, mek ninety. What I sell camp outfit for you I lose some money, but what you mek on t’ree hoss more’n mek up loose, see? So now you trail across desert an’ it no cos’ anything,” explained the guide.

“Here, Tally! we shall go fifty-fifty on the profits of this horse-deal,” declared Mr. Gilroy, sharing the excess money equally.

“Gilly turning horse-trader! Who would have thought it?” laughed Julie, as they started for the railroad station.