Arizona republican., 1891-07-30

M 'Hl flee of sheriff. We
 " mounted our horses,
 S&sD and with long linen dusters on our backs and bottles of whis- ky in our pockets rode first to Spring Gulch, consisting of two groceries, six saloons, an empty hotel, twenty miners cabins, seedy school house, seedier church, the hillsides around denuded of earth, torn and scarred by years of hy- draulic washing, and showing great patches of bare yellow ledge covered with heaps of powders. The few men met were in coarse, ragged gray shirts and mud stained duck pants, and had a worn, worked out look.
 The few loungers about the Washing ton saloon see William Saunders and myself riding down the hill. Our dust CTS and clean linen proclaim us as can didates." Candidates means drinks, We dismount; soon the coveted and cheer ing bottle is placed on the bar; line of tumblers in skirmishing order form be- hind it: every one within sight and hear ing is called up; pause of glad antici. patton ensues while the glasses are being filled; the precision of barroom etiquette is strictly Observed-that not drop be swallowed until all are ready; then the dozen tumblers are simultaneously raised; the standing toast, Heres luck" :" and the reviving alcohol fulfills its mis- sion. This is electioneering.
 Sam White is the Bismarck of our in- terests in Spring G7llch. He is the stand ing delegate to the county convention from this precinct. He goes by virtue of paying claim, capacity for ventur- ing among the rocks and shoals of sa- looms, gaming tables and innumerable calls to drink, without losing his head. He can drink deeply, quietly and fear fully; he can drink himself into noise and turbulence and still keep set of sober faculties in reserve underneath. We hold short cabinet meeting with Sam behind the barn, He sees clearly the political complexion of Spring Gulch- Bob O'Leary is doubtful, but may be bought; Jack Shear and Tom Mead must be braced up to allegiance by whisky; Miles and O'Gorman are mad because favorite of theirs could not get the nomination for supervisor last year, and won't vote anyhow; Bob Jones is favorable to us, but wants to leave be- fore the primary meeting comes off; the rest are sure for us or sure against us,
 We visit the Franklin House, just op- posite. The political candidates money must not all be spent in one house. This is-one of the fundamental principles in electioneertng Every saloon controls a few votes, or. rather a few whisky sod den organizations, who are voted like machines. The solemn ordeal of an American treat is again witnessed. Jim Brown becomes affectionately and pa- triotically drunk, and as we ride away loudly proclaims himself "white man and in favor of white mans govern ment."
 We feel that Spring Gulch is secure. We carry it in our pocket. We ride q couple of miles over the ridge to Sx-Bit Gulch. Red crags tower upward foi hundreds of feet; a Iivulet flows along, and on little flat under spreading live oak is an old log cabin.
 Sam Lugar, gray and worn, resident in this gulch for the last sixteen years sits outside the door smoking bis pipe.
 A hundred yards above is, the residence of the judge" another hard working whisky drinking hermit. Aglance with in shows the judge eating his evening meal. A child is playing about on the mud floor, whose creamy complexion and bright beadlike eyes indicate its In dian origin. Hanging above the fire place are gun, an Indian bow, a quivel full of glass tipped arrows; on the shel bits of gold studded quartz, bunch o crystals, petrifactions and cmiously shaped stones found by the judge from time to time in bis dilgings. Ther' are boxes full of old magazines and news papers; on the rude window sill a cover less, Well wora copy of Shakespeare The judge is tall, straight and sallow il complexion. He has lived on this spo since 1849, Six Bit gtllch was very rich He has torn up virgin gold in the gras roots He lives now on recollections o the flush times. Present failures an long past successes form the staple Q his conversation. His mining is merel, secondary to another occupation--th great aspiration of his hfe--to beat poker game over in Spring Gulch. Fl has been linsucce,sfully trying this fo the last seven years.
 A bundlesof aboriginal duskiness en veloped in | bright calico gown hang ing about her adipose proportions stir as we enter That is the judges wife q squaw. Her family down to the thir generation are camped in the brush har by. They visit the judge at stated ir tervals, and at such times the family ez penses are trebled. The gray shirt an duck pants tied at the waist with .~---