The Winslow mail., 1925-07-28
A Trip to the Buttes
BY CHARLES G. FANCHER.
written for The Mail.)
WELL, folks, this time we went

the other way out toward
Chandler and her sister buttes, ana
as usual, we saw more of the won
ders of Arizona that lie just be
vond the borders of Winslow.
We had hardly started before
our adventures began. This time
it was badgers, but luck was with
the badgers and they are still
there Bad .marksmen? I'll tell
the world we were. But the day
was young and we soon forgot the
badgers in a first-class "rassle"
with a big bull snake. Lordy, he
was mad, and coiled and struck re-
peatedly, catching Riley twice on
the pants and once on the sole of
his shoe We left him still cussing
us and went on to the Painted
Desert
A strange and beautiful place it
is, even in broad daylight. Strange
shapes and colOrs everywhere,
some bright, others duller, yet all
blended into one harmonious whole
and silent as death.
Here and there we saw the trail
of the coyote. crossing one OF the
ridges but except for hawk high
up in the blue sky, not living
thing was in sight.
A little farther on and we came
TO the buttes themselves, strange
towers and castles of black rock,
fantastic, creepy.
One huge ledge strongly reSem
bled gigantic tree lying prone
upon a high shelf, and by CONTRAST
with the surrounding rocky forma
tions this one was nearly white.
1t reminded me of huge log cOf
fin. In order to photograph it we
had to approach nearly a quarter
of mile nearer.
Here Riley redeemed himself by
shootin' dinner on the run, a cot
tontail.
On we rambled, around and
among the buttes, now quite thick,
till we left them behind and ar
rived at Dilkon postoffice, store,
ajo squaws trading.
I grinned They did not. They
turned their backs. Heigh-ho!
Here we visited goat and sheep
corral and in trying to catch a
lamb, one started to jump over
Rileys' head No use-he caught
him squarely on the fly.
An accommodating boy showed
MS cross old billy goat and, to
illustrate how bad the goat was,
the boy spit in the goats face
and then you bet he got out, pronto.
The old billy "r'ared" up and
bleated and walked on his hind
feet and by gosh! 1 thought
smelled skunks. We went right
away from there.
Next stop was Cedar Springs,
also trading post, where the trad
er, Mr. Bailey, told us some very
interesting stories about finding
things in an old cave and also of
finding some pottery high up on
the top of one of the buttes, just
where it had been left by the an
cient peoples, no one knows how
long ago.
Next we prevailed upon a pic
turesque old Indian to let us photo
graph him. He posed very nicely,
for a quarter.
Well, we had to eat, so we
stopped and fed up and believe me,
you've got to hustle for fuel up in
that desert But we got it" sur
face COAL" I believe Riley called it.
On the way back and just north
of the butte shaped like a choco-
late drop. We stopped to buy a
lamb at a Navajo hogan. There
were eleven squaws and children in
that one house. and we had an aitch
of time making them understand
that we wanted them to sell US a
lamb. Finally, nearly the whole
bunch trailed down toward the
band of sheep and one young girl,
noticing one of us carrying a cam
era, suddenly spoke in splendid
English, saying: you don't need
a kodak to buy a sheep. mister.
Well, wouldn't that gitcha?
We got them to. trade, though.
Me and Riley, we got way with
the wimmen.
Then home with our memories
laden with another bunch of pleas
ant thoughts that we may draw
upon in the years to come.
! forgot to tell you all about a
most beautifully shaped mountain
that Riley showed me. I took d
lone look at il Tt was named for
some squaw, but I forget her last
name. Riley knows, though. ASH
him, fellers.