untains intermediate; I have no positive proof of their existence in
the Santa Ritas, but about twenty-three years ago I saw a pair of old
and weather-beaten horns that had been picked up in that range near Agua
Caliente, that is about ten or twelve miles southwest of
Mt. Wrightson. I never saw any sheep in the range, nor do I know of any
one more fortunate than myself in that respect. In days gone by the
Santa Catalinas, the Rincon, and the Tucson Mountains were the most
prolific hunting grounds for the market men. So far as I can remember,
the first brought to the market here were subsequent to the coming of
the railroad in 1880. They were killed in the Tucson Mountains by the
'Logan boys,' well known hunters at that time. Later the Logans made a
strike in the mines and disappeared. For several years no sheep were
seen, but finally Mexicans began killing them in the Santa Catalinas,
and occasionally six or eight would be hung up in the market at the same
time. Later the Papago Indians in the southwest began killing them for
the market. These people, as did also the Mexicans, killed big and
little, and the animals, never abundant, were threatened with
extermination. Those killed by the Logans came from the Tucson
Mountains; those killed by the Mexicans from the Santa Catalinas, and
those killed by the Indians probably from the Baboquivari or Comobabi
ranges. I questioned the hunters repeatedly, but they never gave me a
satisfactory answer.

"Although I never saw the sheep, I have repeatedly seen evidence of them
in both the ranges named. Inasmuch as I have not seen one in several
years past, I feel very confident that there are not many to see. Last
year I learned of a large ram being killed in the Superstition Mountains
which was alone when killed. About three years ago the head of a big ram
was brought to this city. It is said to have weighed seventy pounds. I
did not see it, nor did I learn where it came from.

"The Superstition and the Santa Catalinas are the very essence of
ruggedness, but notwithstanding this I am constrained to believe that
the days of big game are nearly numbered in Arizona. The reasons for
this are readily apparent. The mountain ranges are more or less
mineralized. To this there is hardly an exception. There is no place so
wild and forbidding that the prospector will not enter it. If 'pay rock'
or 'pay dirt' is struck, then good-by solitude and big game. A second
cause is to be found in the c