The Portland daily press., 1894-08-15
A PROPHECY.

That was strange winter in Arizona.
In the mountains, of course, there is al
ways snow, but during January, 1881, it
lay SO long and SO deep that ranchmen and
miners were in despair. The people at
Phenix on one day long to be remembered
caught the edge of storm raging in higher
attitudes and even in the warm valley
snow fell and lay for some hours among
the yerdant palms and oleanders The like
had never been known before in the time
OF the white Inhabitants, and the Mexicans
and Indians, whose homes had been there
for centuries, had no traditions among
them of similar event. t
But if the snow soon melted in the val
1eys it remained long among the noun
tains, and the Ave Suapais, finding their
canyon home uninhabitable, left it and
came down to camp near Pioneer where
the air was milder and there was a chance
of obtaining something to eat from the
: bounty of the more fortunate They built
themselves temporary houses of brush and
waited patiently until the unusual snow
in the canyons had melted Their pres
ence near the town was resented, so strange
is our humanity, and preparations were
made to drive them back like hunted ami
mails. We've got greasers enough to give
the place lack of responsibility without
having lot of Indians prowling about, -
the white people said disdainfully.
Mr.. Emerson, a young man who had
come to the mountains for lung trouble
and kept small store, but not for his
health, was especially disgusted with one
of the Indians, named Yavapai, who
would ciGt in Gil ON, ho t,x,
the store. Hours he would sit there, with
his eyes on the mountains. 1t was said
that he had once been great hunter, but
his contact with civilization had not been
beneficial to him. Now he was fat and
lazy, content to rest his powerful frame
upon dry goods box and subsist upon
chance charity. One day, in evaporation
at sight of so much avoirdupois in con-
stant idleness, Mr.. Emerson ordered the
Indian from the store. Yavapai drew his
ragged blanket about him in insulted dig
nifty, and with flashing eyes left the place.
Mr.. Emerson, considering at his leisure,
concluded he had done an unwise thing.
He knew by experience little of Indian
nature, but he judged from what he had
read that Yavapai would seek Revenge
against him by firing his barn, injuring
LIS SUOCA OF hItl4dpluS tllo SIutll TduC6S,
his daughter
A few days later Mrs. Emerson, whose
home was in the outskirts of the town,
saw the Indian standing at her gate. She
had often fed him, being a generous
whole souled woman who could not bear to
see even worthless human being go hun
CRY. Yavapai was pointing in the snow to
tracks which Mrs. Emerson thought to be
those of dog, but the savage, his intelli-
gence keener in such matters, told her
Coyotes! coyotes!" Mrs. Emerson
glanced with solicitude toward the hen
house and barnyard. When that night she
told her husband of the occurrence, he
said: ''Yes, this storm is the worst ever
known here. 1t is driving even the wild
beasts out of their holes in the hills 1t is
a strange state of affairs. We will proba-
bly, have to go cunning in our own streets
before the winter is over.'' However, Mr.
Emerson did not really believe this and
went back to his store with no further
thought of his gloomy prediction.
The next day his wife, sitting at her
sewing, heard a commotion in the adobe
corral, where a horse was standing, and
looking out saw Yavapai rushing toward
the hoI1sa CARRYING in his arms little