As its servant, at its bidding, I write this, and shall now unfold,
and in the course of this narrative give to the world a surprising
revelation of the power of ancient Aztec idols, which would be
incredible in the light of our twentieth century of Christian
civilization if it were not sustained by the evidence of undeniable
facts.
Our road led through a hilly country toward the Little Colorado
River. In the distance loomed the San Francisco Mountains, extinct
craters which had belched fire and lava long, long ago at the birth
of Arizona, when the earth was still in the travail of creation. We
forded the Little Colorado at Sunset Crossing, a lonely colony, where
a few Mormons were the only inhabitants of a vast area of wilderness.
We were headed due west toward a mesa rising abruptly from the
plateau which we were then traversing. This mesa was again capped by
a chain of lofty peaks, one of the Mogollon mountain ranges. We
ascended the towering mesa through the difficult Chavez pass, which
is named after its discoverer, the noted Mexican, Colonel Francisco
Chavez, who may be remembered as a representative in Congress of the
United States, for the Territory of New Mexico. A day's heavy toil
brought us to the summit of the mesa, which was a beautiful place,
but unspeakably lonesome.
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