BUT WHILE LIVING AT THE TIE CAMP, I was in danger all the time, day and night, especially from the rattlesnakes. I kept on doing the things I wanted to do, though-herd my goats of a morning, come into the house about one or two o'clock in the evening (4), pen the goats, eat a little, then for two or three hours get my books and lessons and study. Then when it was later and cooler in the evening, go out with my goats again. I was never too lonesome, because I was busy all times. And in a way, I was happy. I was closer to God out there in the wilderness. I could understand him better. I know that the Bible is the foundation of all knowledge, but I've studied it on my own. If you go to church, you'll just hear it how they tell it. But if you sit on a hill for fifteen years with your animals and no one else, you learn a lot. It comes to you. David did it with his sheep (5). And, above all, I know that God takened care of me all these years. And even though I fell and sometimes hurt myself real bad, I healed real quick and was able to go on with my work. Through all the twenty years I've been living in the desert, I feel like I've helped many people that would come to me sick, and I've helped myself, too. I've had heart trouble many years, but I know how to treat it.

While I was herding my goats out in the hills, I did lots of exploring. There were little limestone caves that I'd look into. Caves that had been used by the Indians a long time ago. Some were pretty big and others were smaller. There were big caves in the bluffs that overlooked Mayfield Canyon. But I was afraid of them, as these rocks were rotten and crumbled easily. After a rain or real cold spell, some of the top rocks of these high places would break loose and slide down the mountainside. One was close to my house, a big formation of rocks that stood on a high point. One evening, I looked at this place. And next morning when I looked again, it was gone, rocks and all, everything slid down the mountainside. So this part of the country, I soon learned, was dangerous. And I did not go over or into this part often. And wherever I went with the goats, I always was watching for the herbs the Indians tell me about. Some of these plants only grow in the high places. Others in the little valleys. Still other plants are only found in crevices of rocks, under the shrubbery, or sheltered places.

Soon I had a bunch of baby kids. Also a litter of snow- white German shepherd puppies. Soon as all were old enough to follow me with the goats, they would run along beside me, getting into the thorns and barking. The baby kids also found out about the cactus and thorns. But they would all tire out soon and have to rest in the shade. I'd find a dagger plant and set down in its shade. Right quick the baby kids came and lay down close to me as they could get, ten or twelve of the little animals. Then the white baby dogs wanted to rest and get as close to me as possible. But no way, as the baby goats were all around me. So all the puppies could do was to climb up on the baby kids and go to sleep there. But we could never rest too long, as the grown goats would wander off to eat, and we would have to get up and follow them. All this time we were resting, the puppies' momma and papa were running rabbits and other varmints around the goats. But the goats did not mind. They were used to all this barking and running through them. Sometimes I had to step up a rock ledge two feet or more high. The babies (pups and kids) could not jump up on top or get over this ledge of rock. Then I'd have to lift each one up on top so that we might go on after the herd. It was a very pretty sight seeing all these young animals running along after the goats. Snow- white puppies, black, brown, white, or spotted baby goats. All of them close together.

My white German shepherd was a great watchdog. She was good to watch the goats in the daytime. But in the night she was a killer and might even kill the goats. She only loved two things in the world, and one was Wayne. Her and him would run and play around the house for hours. Then she loved me. And every other thing, she thought should die or be killed. My daughter brought her big German shepherd out with eight puppies and left them with me for a few months with my white dog and her pups, along with two of my other white dogs. I had seventeen German shepherds then. When a car drove up to my place, no one got out. They'd even roll their window glass up. So many big fierce-looking dogs. As the baby pups got older, there was just one in all the bunch I wanted. She was black, brown, and gray, a beautiful animal. She was not friendly with no one but me. I named her Tiger-Bell. She was always with the goats and me and was good with them. She learned to go around them and bring them back or drive them into the pens. Everything was fine until the baby kids began coming. Then Tiger-Bell decided they'd all better be killed, and she'd kill them, too. No matter what kind of beating I'd give her. So finally I had to tie Tiger-Bell up. Mexican officers came to the tie house when they made a trip to the Indian Hot Springs and would come in and talk a while. They always admired and tried to talk to Tiger-Bell. In time, they made friends with her. Then later on she liked the Mexican officers as long as they wore the pretty caps that officers wore on their heads and as long as they had their uniforms on. If not, she'd bite them, or try to. I knew I would have to give her away, as she would not stop killing the baby kids. So one officer, especially, wanted her. One day he came by, and I gave him Tiger- Bell. Afterward, he said she made a wonderful watchdog at his home in Ojinaga, Mexico, and no one but an officer could come in his yard. But he sure better have his cap on.

At first, the Mexicans came out of Mexico two or three at a time looking for work. They had only tortillas and a little tobacco with them. And they were always hungry and thirsty. But as the years passed, more and more came across. One morning I got up early and walked out to the goat pen. Looking across a small deep canyon, I counted twelve Mexican men just setting over there watching me. About this time the dogs barked in front of the house. So I turned and walked back to the front. And there were seven more Mexicans standing looking at me from a small hill. But they never came to the house that time. Just went on.

Another time, one morning early, the dogs were tied but they were barking. And I went to look outside. There were ten Mexican men standing there. They didn't look like the Mexicans I'd see most every day coming by. They were mean looking and had yellow complexions. One of them said real quick, "We want you to take us to the nearest town now."

By then I had an old car. But I said, "I can't. My car has no gasoline in the tank, and the nearest town is twenty- eight miles away. I'll have to wait until someone brings me some gasoline."

One of the men turned to another and said, "Go check the gas tank."

And he did. And saw there was no gas. Then I told them, "If I did try to take you all to town, officers would stop us, and you would be caught."

But they weren't scared in the least. About this time, they looked over on the road and saw a car coming a long way off, and they thought if they'd go down the road toward this car, they might get a ride. So they all hurried off.

Each day seemed that more and more passed by, until they were coming by in bunches of eighteen and twenty. Then I began to see someone had planned all this, as these men were well equipped. They had sardines, coffee, tobacco, and tortillas. Good canned food. Then as I began to see more of these strange people creeping, walking, and running into our way of life, hurrying to get into their own place and be ready for the terrible chaos that we all know is coming (6). I could see that all of this just didn't happen. It had been well planned, and we were being silently invaded. And most people didn't know it. This was still happening when I left there, but I had gotten used to all the dangers. I never kept a gun either. I can shoot a gun, but I don't believe in them. A Ranger asked me once if I had a gun, and I said, "No, what would I want with a gun?" He said somebody might come and kill me. I said, "No, if I had a gun and killed somebody, then the government would kill me!" So he didn't say no more.

One morning I walked out with my goats. I was still close to the house when I looked up, and there was a bright object about as big as a football, lavender, yellow, orange, red, and green, bright as could be. And it was falling to the ground. It wasn't falling straight down, but rather it was slanted and falling fast. When it did hit the ground, there was, it seemed, just a puff. And then it was gone, leaving no trace. I know, because I went and looked. Just nothing where some sign should have been.

A few nights later, I was alone and it was nearly daylight. I was awake laying on my right side just thinking. When all of a sudden, something got hold of my upper left arm and side, tighter, tighter, and in my mind I knew I couldn't get loose from whatever held me. I didn't seem to be scared. I just lay there thinking, how am I ever going to get loose from this thing. By this time, I was held so tight against the bed I could not move. So I just lay there. After more time had passed, the hold on my arm began to loosen until it had gone. There was no one in the house but myself. That I know for sure.

Then the next night, must have been toward morning, too, something woke me, and I opened my eyes. And the whole house, even outside, was bright as day. I looked around the room and could see every little thing. The light stayed for a while, then began to fade away. And there was no one on the place but me. The dogs did not even bark. Whatever these things were, I felt no different in the days afterward. Everything went on as usual.

Another time, I was up early in the morning and decided I'd go out in the goat pen and see if the goats were all right. As I passed by the old barn, there stood a big fat man, and what I could see of the poorest, tiredest, oldest horse I've ever seen, The horse looked like some kind of over-sized hat rack. There was an old, old saddle on him. There were old ragged blankets and quilts just thrown across the saddle, hanging down on either side of the horse. Little white sacks of tortillas and cakes tied and hanging down on the saddle. Coffee pot tied on another part of the saddle. Frying pans and pots tied here and there. A rope coiled and laid across the old horn of the saddle, a coat tied in another place, and a water jug. I could hardly believe my eyes, so many things on this poor old horse. Then I looked at the big fat man, and he was laughing. After talking a white with him, he asked if he couldn't camp there close by and help me out with my work. So I told him he could. He stayed and was a good worker and a good man.

One day, he was gone with the goats and was to stop and work on a barbed-wire fence. He left and was gone until mid-evening. When I looked and saw him coming in, I was surprised, as it was too early for him to come back. But I thought there must be a reason. So I just forgot about him and kept on thinking and looking out over the hills. When he rode up to the door, he got off and tied up his horse. He opened the old door and stepped in. Then I saw, from his knee down, that blood was running like water down and off his pant leg, and his shoe was full of blood. Only thing he said was, a wire cut him. Right quick, I made him set down and elevate his foot and leg. Then I grabbed a whole gallon of kerosene oil that Agustin had brought out the day before. And since I didn't take time to see where the wound was, I poured the oil all over his leg. I kept this up every so often, and finally there was no more blood. After I knew the blood had stopped, I got the scissors and cut away the pants to where I could see the wound. I cleaned the blood off, and all I could see was a small hole on top of the vein in his leg. Next morning he was able to walk about two miles following after his poor horse. Of course, there are many ways to stop blood. Old timers use this verse in the Bible --Ezekiel 16:6-- and they do it for animals, too. But I've never used it myself (7).

A good many days after that, one evening he came to the back door. His throat all swelled up after being out in a freezing wind all day. It was so bad he could hardly talk. Said it hurt him too much. I said, "Go set down across the porch from me." He did. I stood looking at his throat. After a few seconds, the swelling started going away. A few more minutes, and all the swelling was gone. And he got up and went on to his camp. Next day, it was colder. I told him to wrap his throat up good before getting out in this cold weather. He said, "I'm not afraid. If I get sick, you can cure me."

One summer, Wayne wanted to get some hounds to run the mountain lions. Their hides and bounty was good. So he was in hopes of catching a few. He began to look around for hounds. But no one had the kind of dogs he wanted. So one day as he was reading a magazine, he saw an advertisement where a man had the very dogs he wanted in Arkansas. So he sat down and answered the advertisement. In a few days, the man from Arkansas wrote and said he had three-fine big game dogs already trained-and especially they were trained not to run rabbits.

So Wayne sent the money after the dogs. In a week or so, the dogs were at the depot. Wayne tied them up and fed them for over a week to be sure they wouldn't run off, and if they did, they would know where to come back to. After enough time had passed, he turned them loose so they might get a little exercise. They were glad to get loose and run around the house a little. One got away from the house, and a big fat jackrabbit jumped up in front of the hound. You never saw such a race. Finally, all the three were running and barking after the jackrabbit. All the time Wayne was calling them to stop. No, sit. None paid any attention. Just kept on going. Old Arkansas Annie, the momma dog's name, finally got in the lead. Soon all was out of hearing.

Wayne got his horse to go see if he could find the dogs. But, no. He could find no trace of them. Finally, he came back and said, "I can't find or hear them. But they will come back tonight." But we never saw those dogs again. Wayne rode and hunted them for days. But they had just disappeared. Wayne said, "I guess a truck or car picked them up." About four months later, a Mexican was digging out a shallow well down in a big canyon, and there was the dogs. They had drowned in this well, I guess, still trying to follow that rabbit. Some dogs. But that was how that country was. Human or animal both would die there if they didn't know their own way around it.

Last year my old herder came in one evening. He always started talking real loud when he'd found something. He said, "Come here. I found an Indian head." He was swinging a skull. He had the man's belt and his head. He said he saw the goats run and start chewing on bones and found a skeleton. So I went and told the officers. And the sheriff, a deputy, immigration, and all came out to the place. So my herder is a wetback, but he wasn't scared. He takened them. It was so steep they couldn't stand up straight at the spot. There was a little sheepdog, and he started digging, too. They said it was a boy about fourteen years old. There was one little piece of Levis, and they put all his bones in a sack and brought it back to the tie house.