The way our language changes, develops, and reaches back fascinates me. Those animals had to be called something before proper names were defined and decided upon. So probably before Ovis canadensis was made legitimate, at least three common people commonly agreed to call what was then called an Argali, a bighorn sheep, an Argali is what it may have commonly been called.

From; A Pictorial History of California – Frost 1851

The Argali Ovis Moritanoe is found in California, sometimes called the Rocky Mountain Sheep.

By some, the goat of the Rocky Mountains has been confounded with this animal; and it has also been called an antelope, though it is neither the one nor the other, but truly and properly a goat. The characters of this species, or probably variety (for it really seems that, notwithstanding all the diversities of the genus (his, whether in the wild or the cultivated state, there is no well-made out distinction broader than that of variety,) are very apparent and at once prevent any possibility of confounding it either with the antelopes or the goats, though of course, as all sheep do, it approximates more closely to the latter of these than to the former. The body is remarkable for its thickness and roundness in proportion to its length; the legs are very long; the outline of the forehead, seen in profile, is nearly straight; and the muzzle is almost exactly that of the common sheep.

The male’s horns are thick and large; they advance in front of the eyes and form nearly an entire spiral turn. They are flattened laterally like the domestic ram and have similar transverse furrows and ridges. These furrows and ridges are very conspicuous on the basal half of the length of the horn, but much less so on the terminal half, and of the three lateral faces, the front one is the largest.

The horns of the female are much more slender than those of the male; they are compressed, nearly straight, and without furrows; there are, in some instances, plates or folds of skin under the throat, especially in the male; the tail is very short in both sexes; the color in summer is generally grayish fawn, with a reddish or yellowish line down the back, and a large patch of the same color -on the buttocks; and the under part, and the insides of the legs are either russet, yellowish, or of a white sand color; in winter, the color of the upper part is more reddish, and the throat and breast are more inclining to white; but the patch on the buttocks remains much the same at all seasons.

These animals are found in little flocks, of about twenty or thirty in each, on the Rocky Mountains and extending southward as far as California. Several naturalists have expressed their conviction that the mouflon of the south of Europe, the Argali of Asia, and the wild sheep of America, are only climatal varieties of one great species, to which they have given the name of “mountain sheep;” but whether this is or is not positively the fact, we have no means of ascertain ing. Probability is in favor of it, however, and the more so that, among the domesticated sheep, which we have every reason to believe are all originally of the same stock, whatever that stock may have been, there are differences of external appearance fully greater than any which are to be met with among the wild ones; and we believe that, in the whole genus, there are no differences but external ones. Some further confusion and uncertainty are produced among these wild sheep by the conduct of the keepers of museums, who have filled these with horns and other scraps, not having any history, and which have, in consequence, been referred to places where they are not to be found. However, the great puzzle in the history of this genus is the proneness which has to break into varieties, not only in different countries but in the same country and even in the same flock. However, the other two species or varieties are worthy of notice, even though they do not settle, or tend to settle, the question of common origin.

Other Keenbrook Settlers

by Alice Hall

This portion of an 1875 Los Angeles and Independence Railway map shows John Brown’s Toll Road from Martin’s Ranch (Glen Helen) to Fears House, the upper tollgate. The lower toll gate (Blue Cut) was eventually moved to Faurot House, later called Bear Flat Ranch and Cozy Dell. The site of the Vincent house is now the San Bernardino Water Company property and the Glen House is Keenbrook. Rebecca Fears, daughter of the upper tollgate keeper, married Jerry Vincent.

Let’s see if I can itemize some of the other Keenbrook settlers besides the Glenns and the Keens.

William Gould Bailey, a printer by trade, raised bees in Bailey Canyon high above Verdemont around 1866. When fire destroyed his enterprise, he moved to Keenbrook and started a poultry farm. He was one of the co-purchasers with the Keens. Shortly after his marriage to Cinderella, he was called back to San Francisco to claim his son from a previous alliance, Hervey, whose mother had just died. William had been working in San Francisco with Waterman.

May Schultz and her sister Kate were housekeepers for the railroad, and Hervey Bailey married May.

Hervey Bailey homesteaded the Keenbrook place, and when his natural son, Ray, died, he deeded his property to the boy he’d raised, May’s son, Frank Schultz. Future generations of Baileys didn’t appreciate that Hervey Bailey had been overlooked. Frank married Hilda Wharton, who lived on what is now known as Ruddell Hill (Joe Camp’s place) with her mother and two sisters before they moved across Cajon Creek to the Obst place that became known as Freedom Acres when Anna Mills owned it. Hervey’s son was Raymond Gould.

Hilda Wharton Schultz became our trusted caretaker who managed our livestock when we had to be away from home.

Most of the photos I’ve been posting came from Ray Bailey, the grandson of Londa Bailey, whose husband was the Keenbrook station master between 1911 and 1918. Londa’s sister, Stella Ehwegen, was married to the Cajon station master, who previously served at the Summit Valley station. The two couples visited each other frequently, and both women were avid photographers. Ray Bailey inherited their photographs and graciously shared copies with me when he lived in Muscoy. Ray wanted the photos to have more public exposure, so here it is. More are available in the Cajon Pass book from Arcadia Publishing—from or most large bookstores.

Ben and Kathleen Verbryck also owned land in the Keenbrook area, and they donated land to the USFS to construct the first fire lookout platform in the Pass and the SB National Forest. Steam locomotives often started fires.

Gilbert Stuveling was another prominent landowner north of Keenbrook in the Clear Springs District when the land was assessed at $10 an acre. J.M. Herndon owned over 900 acres in the area.

Land boundaries in the pass have been fairly fluid through the years. Devore used to extend to Glen Helen and even beyond. Keenbrook used to include land on the east side of the creek like Mathews place and Freedom Acres.

Hilda’s Story

by Alice Hall

The other day I ran a photo of Hilda Wharton Schultz, and I thought a few memories of the area directly from Hilda would be appreciated. The photo, taken from the Blue Cut rock retaining wall, is of the Carlo home she mentioned.


By Hilda Wharton Schultz

Stories of Devore? Anyone who’s lived there could come up with pages of stories. My memories contain lots of stories of the Devore area.

My mother, Cora Wharton, was widowed young in West Virginia, and raising three daughters alone was difficult. We moved from a relative’s home in Arkansas to Fontana and from Fontana to Lenhardt’s 80 acres (now shown on Forestry maps as Ruddell Hill). We stayed there and took care of his many goats. After the 1938 flood, which trapped us on the hill for three weeks, we moved to Holcomb’s place in Verdemont. When we left in 1941, we lived for three years at the Obst place to watch their son Artie and care for the many goats. That place later became known as Anna Mill’s Freedom Acres across the canyon from Lenhardt’s, set back from Highway 66. Mr. Obst was the manager of Harris’s Department Store. (And Dr. Lenhardt, a veterinarian, had married Norma, the daughter of a Devore poultry farmer.

During the war (WWII), my sister Joanna and I used to go up to Clyde Ranch on Lone Pine Canyon Road. There was a tower there, and we used to spot airplanes for civil defense. I remember a little schoolhouse below Carlo’s big house that was washed out in the flood of 1938.

I remember election polls at Blue Cut. I remember that Kaylen’s place, the green house at Keenbrook, used to have a post office in it (that house has been replaced by a modular), and I remember the little post office on Cajon Blvd. later on. I remember hiking through the hills near Blue Cut (behind Gem Ranch up near the Heby place) and having my hackles rise when I realized something was following me. I never saw it, but I’m pretty sure it was a cougar.

I remember when Minnie Bradley, who bought my Keenbrook place, got her car stuck on the railroad tracks when it ran off the road a little. I could flag down the engineer, and he stopped in time and helped us move the car.

I remember the wide spot where the helper train engines could turn around to go back to town after making the grade. The turn-around was way past Cozy Dell, but on the other side of the wash. It was a big flat place where lots of tracks intertwined.

I remember when there were holding pens for cattle at the Summit and Ed Barnes’ unusual way of killing rattlesnakes- Fire probably is not the best tool for that job.

Hervey Bailey used to tell me some pretty interesting stories about living at Keenbrook. He used to ride the stagecoach from Keenbrook up to Victorville to eat at the Harvey House. He also enjoyed riding the 20-mule-team Borax wagons. He’s the one who homesteaded the Keenbrook area that included the place where I lived for a time.

I remember, after leaving Keenbrook for Verdemont (I lived at the Houghton place at the top of Palm), coming back to Devore almost every day to clean houses for people or care for their livestock while they were away. I worked for Kendall and Mary Rose Stone and Roger and Alice Hall. That’s where I learned never to trust a ram. I also worked for Superior Court Judge Edward P. and Jane Fogg in north San Bernardino.

Editors note: I met Hilda at my dad’s feed store in 1961. She started working for us during holidays and judging junkets in 1962. She was completely reliable and trustworthy and knew her livestock unbelievably well. We visited her both at her little bungalow tucked between the railroad tracks at Keenbrook and the Houghton place in Verdemont. I’ve always said that everyone needs a Hilda, and I miss having that kind of help since she retired.

Cajon Creek

by Alice Hall

This photo taken by either the Baileys (station masters at Cajon Station) or the Ehwegens, pronounced Ay-vay-gen (station masters at the Keenbrook Station) from Applewhite Road between 1911 and 1918, shows Cajon Creek.
The buildings along the railroad and near the lower right corner are Keenbrook.
I’m guessing that the large clear area against the San Bernardino hills nearing the upper left corner would be Freedom Acres when Anna Mills owned it in the 1970s, which was formerly owned by Obst.
Another guess is that the white line coming down the hill points to the Mathews and Hall Ranches. Those places were homesteaded in the 1920s by Francisco and Esperanza Luna and Mr. and Mrs. Francisco Nunez. Monte Mathews and his stepfather, Dr. Henderson Pittman, bought the Luna place. The Nunez place passed through several owners, including Edward and Edna Soehanel, before Harry and Ione Hall bought it in 1952.
Other early homesteaders by the creek were the Fears family, Jerry and Rebecca (Fears), Vincent, and Henry Clock.


by Alice Hall

A locomotive stops at Keenbrook Station for water and fuel. Keenbrook was named for G.H. and Sarah Keene, who, along with two other parties, bought the property from James and Ruth Ellen Applewhite in 1883. Ruth Ellen was the daughter of the previous owner of the land, Silas and Mourning Dove Glenn, who established the successful resort in Lytle Creek. A stagecoach drove adventurous vacationers from the railroad station in Keenbrook to Glenn Ranch in Lytle Creek–not a trip I would have wanted to take.

Other Early Settlers of Devore

by Alice Hall

Before John A. Devore, many settlers claimed land in and around the hills where Devore now nestles. Those settlers were why the U.S. Government did not push their dispute against Henry Hancock over the conflict of interests shown when he surveyed the Muscupiabe Rancho. The government didn’t want to disrupt those many lives.

Besides Cole, other settlers in the area at the time were: Moses Sweat, a gold miner who owned his home; Narcisso Baroni, an irrigator, and his family; Refugio Chavia of the Cahuilla Tribe, who owned his own home where he housed his family; Peter Pahl, a German doctor, and his wife Harriet; Frank Coa, a servant and a teamster; Amanda Gavits, a Canadian nurse; Leon Lason or Lacon, a prospector from Virginia. People with their own farms were: McNew, Meyer, Long, Clark, Davidson, Riedel, Bledsoe, Bemis, Martin, and Leach. Other settlers in the area were Taylor, Van Horn, and Huey. Douglas was near Cole.


The Akers were important settlers in the 1800s. Larkin B. Akers sold for $500 to John Akers in 1883, all his land, easements, and water rights in and around Akers Canyon in Section 21 of Township 2N, Range 5W, San Bernardino Meridian. Akers Canyon was described as being due north of the Old Martin Station (Glen Helen). That would make it Kimbark and put it in the vicinity of the alfalfa field the Coles later sold to Devore and Marble. The Coles may have had ownership as early as 1891.

In 1884, John M. Akers sold for $500 all his land in and around Akers and Alder canyons (the two Kimbarks?) to Henry De Garmo, John Hauser, and M.D. Katz.

In 1886, John M. Akers sold for $1000 to T.B. Lyon 80 acres of the John M. Akers place in Section 28 at the mouth of Cajon Pass. Neighbors mentioned as having previously bought land in Section 28 from John M. Akers were Bart Smithson to the east and M. Phelps to the west.

In 1886, L.B. Akers sold back to John Hancock, the owner of Rancho Muscupiabe and brother of land manager and surveyor Henry Hancock, land and water rights to Akers Creek he had purchased from Hancock three years before. The resale price was $1350 in gold coin.

L.B. Akers was also the father of Julia, who married Henry Hopper at the age of 16 in 1873. They settled in Section 22 of Devore, raised several children, and bought additional land from Devore early in his short tenure.

The Hopper place was on the top side of Foothill just west of Deercrest. Hopper Canyon still bears that name, and one of the Hopper sons has returned to see his birthplace through the years. During two of those visits, he spoke with Nancy Sneed, as the Sneed home is at Hopper Canyon.



John A. Devore was born in Pennsylvania in 1859 to parents who had also both been born in PA according to the 1880 US Census in Cook County, IL.

At the time he was 22, he lived with Daniel and Martha Evans, his in-laws, his wife Anna, age 21, herbrother Walter age 20, a 23-year-old book keeper named James Seaton from England and a 19-year-old Swedish maid named Ida Olson. Daniel and Walter Evans were both listed as bakers. Martha and Anna were named as homemakers, but no job was mentioned for John A. Devore.

In 1890, John and Anna Devore and Walter Evans, all who lived at 3235 Rhodes Ave., were listed in the Chicago Blue Book of Selected Names.

Somewhere along the line Devore acquired a high-ranking position in Kenwood Corporation, a clothing manufacturer specializing in railroad uniforms. Apparently that business sent him to California at the age of 42, where his dealings with the railroads and his willingness to help the corporation develop the land they had acquired gave him a modicum of fame.

John Devore’s vision for the land that now bears his name was evidently for a place of grace and beauty, and authors of his time lauded him for the lovely homes, rock walls, and gardens he had incorporated into the design of the community.

Perhaps Kenwood, the upscale section of Chicago where Anna’s family lived, influenced his plans.

According to friends mentioned in his obituary, he had many more plans for Devore that never materialized, one of which may have been a golf course. By the time he was 45 he was in poor health and looked forward to days of better vitality so he could accomplish those plans. Unfortunately, he had a paralyzing stroke at the age of 48 and died shortly thereafter. Whatever dreams he had for the village named after him remain unknown.

Anna remarried, mortgaged the property John had quitclaimed to her, and lost all of it within three years.

When John Devore died, his widow had to dispose of 14 horses, a Jersey cow, eight carriages/buggies, 11 plows, four mowers, two rakes and various other tools, a six-ton Fairbanks scale, 12 picking boxes, 18,000 trays, 700 sweat boxes, and all kinds of furniture and other equipment, including a gas manufacturing plant for illumination.


The Optimist Boys’ Ranch was home to needy boys for decades, and it was a great place for some local young people to find good work, too.

It originally opened in 1951, but was closed for over a decade after the Devore House burned down. It reopened in 1980 when the new house was constructed, but it did not reopen without opposition from the Committee for Devore.

The Optimists said they would be taking boys who were truants, incorrigibles, runaways, petty thieves, and those whose families had given up.

Not welcome in the home would be boys who were arsonists, rapists, assaulters, and serious druggies.

Optimists said they wanted to teach the boys to respect their community, and they appreciated the fact that in Devore 4-H clubs still flourished and children were taught to love the land. The property was sold to a developer in 2006.

Picture 1—The Devore House was built in 1900 by John Devore on his 1800 acre ranch that became the community that bears his name. From a Sun photo, 1950s.

It served as a stage station.

Devore died in 1907, and in 1912 his widow sold the house to R.B. Peters, who lived in it until 1928.

It became Paige Military Academy, Devore Sunday School, and Optimist Boys Ranch.

It stood at the corner of Muriel and Kimbark.

(Sun Photo and caption from the ’50s found in The California Room at the Feldheym Library).

Picture 2—The Devore house in 1908 after John A. Devore’s death, and Anna Devore lived in the house. According to some sources, Mrs. R.K. Walker lived in the house at the time it was sold to Peters.

Photo from the Sun Souvenir Number of 1908, thanks to The California Room at the Feldheym Library.

The porch pillars and rails certainly changed.

Glen Helen

by Alice Hall

When our family moved to Devore in 1948, Glen Helen was home to Doc and Belle Davis, but in 1952 it became a County working farm growing all kinds of crops, from potatoes to asparagus. Hereford and Angus cattle ranged on many acres of pasture, and 50 acres were planted to alfalfa. Horses were used to round up and rope cattle.

Prisoners that did the farm work were trucked in from the Chino Men’s Prison, and the farm overseer was Tony Gianinni. Two of his three children, Carl and Paula, became our playmates.

According to Carl (Gianinni) Durling, Glen Helen Farm consisted of about 1,300 sprinkler-irrigated acres out of 2000, some 800 acres dry farmed, and leased grazing land brought the total to 4,000 acres of useable land.


Early records call the place Glen Hellen. One of the “l”s was dropped from Hellen between 1888 and 1900. Many rumors exist about the origin of the name, but there is no official reason for the name Glen Helen.

George and Sarah Martin were listed in the 1870 census as owning 2,700 acres of land at the lower end of Cajon Pass worth about $10,000. They had purchased it in 1864 when it was on the delinquent tax list. Mrs. Foote and Jesse Martin were also associated with Glen Helen.

They shared their abode with military men, private citizens, and newspaper reporters, among others who traveled through. During the Civil War, a Union Post under the command of Col. William Hoffman, called Camp Cajon, was located at Martin’s Ranch.

Reportedly, up to 2,360 acres of the Muscupiabe Rancho went directly to the Martins. Names of Hancock and Wilson and Muscoy Water Company have also been associated with the property. And John and Nettie Cole co-owned part of it with Wilson in the late 1800s for a Jersey breeding farm.

When George Martin died in 1874, his oldest son, Archibald, started selling the Martin property. However, the name Martin’s Ranch clung to the property through several other owners. One of those owners apparently threw some lavish parties that were attended by people from town, as well as county residents.

Another son of George and Sarah, Samuel Martin, built his home at the foot of the Mojave Trail near Cable Canyon in 1873. A third son, George, is also listed in the 1887 County Directory as living in the “Martin’s District,” which covered lower Cajon Pass, the Devore area, and the Verdemont area. In 1882, Samuel Martin sold 300 acres to Julius Meyer, who developed much of Verdemont.

In the early 1900s, the Terribilini brothers ran a dairy on Glen Helen, and then the property passed into the hands of the Muscoy Water Company. John Terribilini married Lily Bubier, whose family also lived in that area, and moved up the dirt road, now paved and called Glen Helen Road.

In 1926 the Muscoy Water Co. sold its Glen Helen holdings to Jonas and Roof, who formed the Muscoy Syndicate. By 1930 the Syndicate owned 5640 acres of irrigable land with only 3000 irrigated. G.S. Towne bought back the Muscoy Water Company in 1936, and in 1948 the Muscoy Water Co. sold 2,079 acres of Glen Helen to San Bernardino County. Its extensive water ditch had not been used in years, the whole plan having been destroyed by the flood of 1938.

During this time, Doc and Belle Davis lived at Glen Helen until the county decided to start its farm. Also, Gene and Liz Grogan and their children Susan and Nick lived there in 1969-70 because Billy and Thelma Beardsley had moved their horse training stables to Glen Helen, and Liz worked for them. Thelma was also the music director for County Schools. After Glen Helen became a park, the Grogans moved onto Cajon Blvd., where Liz, a vocal county government watchdog, could keep her horses.

Look for more on Glen Helen!

Photo 1—A view of Martin’s Ranch circa 1870, later Glen Helen. Photo found in the San Bernardino County Archives.

Photo 2—Tony Gianinni and his children check the Glen Helen reservoir in the early 1950s. Photo sent via e-mail by Carl Gianinni Durling.

Photo 3—The Glen Helen barn housed the cattle and horses in 1952. Photo via e-mail from Carl (Gianinni) Durling.

Blue Cut

by Alice Hall

I had a request for information on Casa Maria, so here is a photo from 2007 along with what little I know. This cute little A-frame building was a popular café, The A-Frame Eatery, at Blue Cut when Highway 66 was in its prime. The A-Frame had other owners and was often used as a rental after it became Gem Pines, owned by Gerry and Glenda Bayless of Gem Ranch across the 66. Now it is an adorable worship center called Casa Maria.

Nearby was the Blue Cut Garage and a restaurant owned by the Hickmans since 1929. They moved their business to the 395 cutoff in 1950 when they heard about the freeway plans. Tom Shepherd purchased it, but Bob and Julie Gauthier converted the restaurant into a residence and have lived there for over 40 years.

The second photo is of the rock retaining walls along Rt. 66 at Blue Cut, which gets its name from the Pelona Schist in the hills that shows color when cut during construction. The walls were designed by B.A. Switzer and built by Olie Dahl to keep motorists from going off Rt. 66.

Ellen Baley, Age 11

Disaster at the Colorado
Charles W. Baley

During this phase of the journey, the wagon train was doing much of its traveling at night, owing to the great daytime heat of the desert and the long distances between water holes. They would stop for a short rest at regular intervals during the night. At one of these rest stops, eleven-year-old Ellen Baley, a daughter of Gillum and Permelia Baley, fell asleep and failed to awaken when the wagon train moved on. Somehow, she was not missed until the train traveled some distance. The poor girl awoke to find herself alone in the middle of a vast hostile desert. Filled with fright, she began running to catch up with the wagon train, but in her confusion, she took off in the opposite direction. When she was discovered missing, her father and older brother, George, immediately returned to where they had stopped. To their horror, she was not there! Captured by the Indians must have been their conclusion!

Nevertheless, they continued their search by calling out the little girl’s name at the top of their voices as they rode back. Their efforts were soon rewarded when a faint cry came far off in the distance, “Papa, Papa.” Her father immediately answered and kept calling her name until he caught up with her. When reunited with her family and the other members of the wagon train, Ellen had a tale that would be told and retold by family members until the present day.

Indian Mouse

Nevada History: XXVII
From James G. Scrugham, Nevada: The Narrative of the Conquest of a Frontier Land (1935), vol. I

The Story of Mouse, the Murderous Pahute

One of the wildest frontier lands left in the United States is embraced in the southern tip of the State of Nevada, between the confluence of the Virgin and Colorado rivers and the site of the construction of the great Boulder dam project.

Bonelli Landing – Lake Mead

Some thirty-five years ago this area was the scene of one of the most remarkable man hunts which ever took place within the confines of the state. The chief actors in this thrilling drama were eight in number, three Pahute Indians, and five white men.

The leading character was an Indian named “Mouse” by his fellow tribesmen, of his habit of hiding out in the brush and his sly and silent movements. Although of a retiring and surly disposition, he was a good worker and possessed a crafty and intelligent mind.

The next character in importance and interest was one “Red Eye,” the most skilled Indian tracker of his tribe. He derived his name from bloodshot flecks which were always visible in the whites of his eyes and was well-liked by the white men on account of his loyalty and industry as a ranch hand.

The third Indian character was a fierce old squaw who proved to be the Nemesis of the story, stirred to heroic action by the theft of a large and much-prized cabbage from her garden.

Daniel Bonelli – Huntington Library

Of the white actors, the most important was Daniel Bonelli, a famous pioneer settler of the early days. He conducted a hay and vegetable ranch near the junction of the Virgin and Colorado rivers and also operated a ferry over the latter stream connecting with the main trail south through Arizona. He employed a large number of white men and Indians to assist in his livestock, farming, and ferrying enterprises, among whom was a strong, fearless cowpuncher named George Sherwood, who later appears prominently in the story.

Other white men who figured notably in the tragedy were two young prospectors named Davis and Stearns, who were searching for placer gold on the bars of the Colorado River. These men were accompanied by an elderly prospector known as Major Greenowalt, whose chief function was to serve as camp tender.

The story begins at Bonelli’s ranch on the Colorado River. The place was then on the main line of travel between Oregon, Idaho, Utah, and the rich mining camps of Pioche and Delamar on the north to points in Arizona, Mexico, and elsewhere in the south. Here passed a continual stream of travelers, many of whom were fugitives from justice-seeking oblivion in distant isolated places.

Bonelli’s Ferry

Others were nomads seeking the warmth of southern climes in winter and the coolness of the highlands of the north in the summer. In addition to revenues derived from his ferry over the Colorado and sale of hay and supplies to passersby, Bonelli also did an extensive trade in meat and produce with the flourishing mining camps at El Dorado Canyon, Chloride, Gold Basin and a score of other places.

In the operation of his ranch, Bonelli employed several Indian hands, including Mouse and Red Eye.

The Bonelli Home in Rioville (Bonelli Landing)

On a spring evening in 1896 when the story begins, the Indian Mouse in some way secured a quantity of whisky, which he drank. Under the alcoholic stimulant, his naturally vicious disposition had no restraint, and Mouse started a promiscuous shooting at the other Indians in the camp. They fled to the main ranch and informed Bonelli that Mouse was on a killing rampage and their lives had only been saved by the bad aim of the drunken aggressor.

Bonelli and some of his ranch hands then went to the Indian camp and disarmed the crazed Mouse, locking him in an adobe outhouse for the night. The next morning the Indian had become sober and appeared entirely docile. However, Bonelli, knowing the disposition of Mouse, gave him his discharge and ferried him over to the Arizona side, after returning to the man his gun and ammunition were taken away the previous evening.

From Bonelli’s Ferry, the Indian went to a mining camp called White Hills and worked a few days cutting Joshua trees for fuel. Becoming tired of the labor, he stole a horse and set out for one of his old haunts at Indian Springs, some eighty miles away at the foot of the Charleston Mountains.

Mouse attempted to cross the Colorado River back to Nevada at a point opposite the old trail up the Las Vegas Wash, evidently intending to obtain food supplies at the Las Vegas ranch while en route to his destination.

Just before he reached the Nevada shore, his horse became so deeply mired in the quicksands that he could not be extricated. Mouse was compelled to leave the struggling animal, and he made his way up the river toward a prospector’s camp which he sighted on the Arizona shore. This camp was occupied at the time by the three men mentioned above, Davis, Stearns, and Major Greenowalt, who were prospecting for placer gold in the river bars. They had a small boat which they used for the purpose and accommodatingly crossed the river to meet the Indian when he signaled to them.

After being fed by the prospectors, who were obviously tenderfeet in the country, the crafty Mouse aroused their interest by relating the story of a fictitious ledge of gold-bearing quartz which he claimed to have discovered in an almost inaccessible canyon, some ten miles back from the camp.

Early the following day, accompanied by Davis and Stearns, the Indian started for the scene of the alleged find, Greenowalt remaining at the river location. Davis and Stearns were never again seen alive.

The next morning the scene of the story shifts back to the Bonelli ranch, some twenty miles further up the river from the prospectors’ camp.

Among the horses on the place were two handsome gray geldings, half-brothers five and six years old, which had been bought by Bonelli from a band of well-bred horses being driven from northern Nevada to the Arizona market. These animals were the best in the place, but one was a much better saddle horse than the other owing to a more tractable disposition.

During the time Mouse worked on the ranch, he was familiar with the horses and their characteristics. On the morning in question, when the ranch hands went into the fields to harness the stock, the best gray horse was found to be missing. This caused no particular excitement until it was found that his bridle was also gone.

Speedily circling the fields in search of tracks, the buckaroos discovered where the lost horse had been led out toward the Virgin River by a man wearing leather boots, who mounted at the bank before plunging into the stream. A hasty inspection of the shorelines revealed no place where the rider could have come out from the river. A general alarm was sounded and all hands set out to find the trail of the thief. After a couple of hours delay, the outcoming tracks were finally located on the opposite side, more than a half mile above where the stolen animal had entered the water. The extraordinary effort made to throw pursuers off the track indicated that the horse stealer was a person of some skill and experience, who had gained a probable ten or twelve-hour start on possible pursuers. However, Bonelli acted promptly. He armed two of his best riders with Winchester rifles and instructed them to stay with the trail until they recovered the horse or killed the thief.

The pursuing posse followed the tracks up the sandy shores of the Rio Virgin until they reached the Bitter Springs Wash, the drainage channel for a great range of territory to the west of the Virgin.

At the head of this wash are springs of bitter waters that will support life although hardly palatable enough for human consumption. Here the crafty Mouse, for he was the thief, left the bottom of the wash where trailing was easy, and took to the dolomitic limestone banks where vegetation and the soft ground was scanty, and no imprints were made. However, the very hardness of the ground defeated the purpose of the Indian thief. The rough limestone caused the horse’s hoofs to bleed, leaving a plain track for the pursuers to follow.

All through the long afternoon and in the moonlit evening, the Bonelli buckaroos followed the trail. About ten o’clock at night while going over a steep declivity covered with loose lime shale, one of the horses missed his footing and started both riders and their steeds to slide into the precipitous gulch below. When the descent was stopped, both horsemen were so exhausted from the efforts of the day that they dismounted and unsaddled their animals, leaving their bridles on.

Both men wrapped themselves in their saddle blankets and took turns at sleeping through the remainder of the night. On the following morning, they were up at the first peep of dawn ready to resume the trail. However, it was found that the horse who had missed his footing was so badly bruised and cut that he could hardly walk and the trailers decided to go back to the Bonelli ranch for reinforcements.

On arriving home early in the afternoon and reporting their adventures, the master of the ranch immediately detailed George Sherwood, his ranch foreman, and Red Eye, the skilled Indian tracker, to follow the thief to the end. From the information available, Sherwood and Red Eye decided that the horse thief was heading for the Las Vegas ranch, seventy-five miles away, as that was the nearest food and water available.

Pushing their horses to the utmost, the trailers arrived at their destination the second evening after leaving the Bonelli ranch. Then it was found that the Indian Mouse had arrived the night before on foot, wearing leather boots, with a story of having killed his crippled horse in the Muddy range at a point near where the first pair of pursuers had lost the bloody trail the day before.

It then became obvious that Mouse was the thief, and that the lost horse was dead, otherwise he would have been brought in for water. As further evidence of the guilt of the Indian, he had silently slipped away in the night soon after he was fed by the ranchmen, and his tracks indicated that he had made directly for the rugged fastnesses of the Charleston Mountains, some thirty miles away.

A successful pursuit was impossible, so after two days rest, Sherwood and Red Eye started on their return to the Bonelli place to inform their employer of the identity of the criminal. Arriving at the foot of the Las Vegas Wash, where Mouse had lost his first stolen horse in the quicksands of the Colorado River a few days before, Sherwood and his companion saw a flock of buzzards circling around and eating the remains of the animal which projected from the quicksand.

As night was approaching, they rode up the river to a point opposite the prospectors’ camp.

Here Major Greenowalt rowed over and informed them that his partners had left five days before with an Indian named Mouse, who was to show them the location of a rich gold ledge. The Major was greatly disturbed by the protracted absence of his companions as they had only carried food and water for a one-day trip.

On hearing the Major’s story, both Sherwood and Red Eye became apprehensive that the surly Mouse, with whom they were well acquainted, had added murder to his crime of horse theft.

The next morning they rode back to the home ranch and reported their information and suspicions to Mr. Bonelli.

The aroused ranch owner immediately organized a posse that went down the river to seek the missing men. Again the indomitable Red Eye took up the trail over rough and hard ground.

After two days of tedious tracking, Red Eye finally led the posse to the foot of a steep declivity where the mutilated bodies of Davis and Stearns were discovered. The boots had been removed from the feet of Stearns, accounting for the boot tracks made by Mouse when he had stolen the gray gelding at the Bonelli ranch.

Reconstructing the tragedy, it appeared that Mouse had taken the lead until he enticed the two prospectors to the lonely place where the bodies were found. There he suddenly turned and vented his blood lust against the white race by shooting both Davis and Stearns.

The bodies of the unfortunate gold seekers were carried down to the river, then transported 100 miles in skiffs to Needles, California, from whence the remains were shipped back to relatives in the East.

With his dastardly acts fully revealed, Mouse became a hunted outcast, to be killed on sight. Even his tribal compatriots were in terror of him and sought his extermination as a crazed killer.

Mouse Tank – Valley of Fire

For two years the murderer remained at large, living on seeds, nuts, and rodents and making an occasional raid on a prospectors camp for flour, bacon, and beans. There was found evidence of where Mouse had killed a wild mustang at a water hole and made jerky of the meat.

Finally, there came an end to this bold and much-feared outlaw. In course of his wanderings, he came to a mountain overlooking a narrow valley where some of his fellow tribesmen had a little truck garden by a water hole. He descended in the night and stole some corn and a cabbage to assuage his hunger.

This act led to his undoing. The cabbage belonged to an astute old squaw, who picked up the trail and followed it enough to identify it as belonging to Mouse from certain peculiarities of gait with which she was familiar.

Returning to the camp the old squaw set up a hue and cry, which brought about the speedy organization of a well-armed posse to endeavor to capture the murderer. Red Eye, the tracker, led the hot pursuit. Day and night continued the chase, first through the flaming red sandstones of the Valley of Fire, then up the Meadow Valley Wash to Cave Springs and back again toward the Muddy River.

Bonelli had relays of men to provide food and water for the pursuers, as he was determined that the miscreant should not again escape.

The track was lost and found, then lost and found again. Mouse was using every art of concealment, but the tireless Red Eye never gave up the trail.

After nearly two weeks of hide and seek, early one morning the posse cornered Mouse at a lonely water hole on a gypsum flat near the Muddy River. Here the outlaw made his last stand.

Cursing and screaming, Mouse exchanged shot for shot with his pursuers. However, his pistols were no match for the high-powered rifles of the posse. The savage murderer finally fell with his body literally riddled with bullets. Thus was avenged the deaths of Davis and Stearns, and the whole countryside felt relief from the sinister shadow of the Indian Mouse.