longs to an old line of Spanish aristocracy in
Mexico. We are now living together in the peace and contentment of old
age, well occupied in bringing up and providing for our family of two
children, Mary, who will be twenty years old on February 25, 1915, and
Charlie, who will be sixteen on the same date. Both our children, by the
grace of God, have been spared us after severe illnesses.

* * * * *

To make hundreds of implacable enemies at one stroke is something any
man would very naturally hesitate to do, but I did just that about a
year after I commenced working for D. A. Sanford, one of the biggest
ranchers between the railroad and the border. The explanation of this
lies in one word--sheep.

If there was one man whom cattlemen hated with a fierce, unreasoning
hatred, it was the man who ran sheep over the open range--a proceeding
perfectly legal, but one which threatened the grazing of the cattle
inasmuch as where sheep had grazed it was impossible for cattle to feed
for some weeks, or until the grass had had time to grow again. Sheep
crop almost to the ground and feed in great herds, close together, and
the range after a herd of sheep has passed over it looks as if somebody
had gone over it with a lawnmower.

In 1881 I closed out the old Sanford ranch stock and was informed by my
employer that he had foreclosed a mortgage on 13,000 head of sheep owned
by Tully, Ochoa and De Long of Tucson. This firm was the biggest at that
time in the Territory and the De Long of the company was one of the six
men who led the Papagos in the Camp Grant Massacre. He died in Tucson
recently and I am now the only white survivor of that occurrence. Tully,
Ochoa and De Long were forced out of business by the coming of the
railroad in 1880, which cheapened things so much that the large stock
held by the company was sold at prices below what it had cost,
necessitating bankruptcy.

I was not surprised to hear that Sanford intended to run sheep, though I
will admit that the information was scarcely welcome. Sheep, however, at
that time were much scarcer than cattle and fetched, consequently, much
higher prices. My employer, D. A. Sanford, who now lives in Washington,
D. C., was one of the shrewdest business men in the Territory, and was,
as well, one of the best-natured of men. His business acumen is
testified to by the fact that he is now sufficiently wealthy to count
his pile in the seven figures.

Mr.