go. That is the reason I did not get your letter sooner.

In one hour after I received your book, I had orders for nine of them.
All these books go to the official force of the Reclamation Service here
who are Damming the Colorado for the Government Irrigation Project. They
are not Damming it as we formerly did, but with good solid masonry. The
Dam is 4800 feet long and 300 feet wide and 10 feet above high water.
In high water it will flow over the top of the Dam, but in low water
the ditches or canals will take all the water out of the River, the
approximate cost is three million. There will be a tunnel under the
River at Yuma just below the Bridge, to bring the water into Arizona
which is thickly settled to the Mexican Line.

I have done nothing on the River since the 23rd of last August, at which
date they closed the River to Navigation, and the only reason I am now
in Yumais trying to get something from Government for my boats made
useless by the Dam. I expect to get a little, but not a tenth of what
they cost me.

Your book could not have a better title: it is "Vanished Arizona" sure
enough, vanished the good and warm Hearts that were here when you were.
The People here now are cold blooded as a snake and are all trying to
get the best of the other fellow.

There are but two alive that were on the River when you were on it.
Polhemus and myself are all that are left, but I have many friends on
this coast.

*****

The nurse Patrocina died in Los Angeles last summer and the crying kid
Jesusita she had on the boat when you went from Ehrenberg to the mouth
of the River grew up to be the finest looking Girl in these Parts; She
was the Star witness in a murder trial in Los Angeles last winter, and
her picture was in all of the Papers.

I am sending you a picture of the Steamer "Mojave" which was not on
the river when you were here. I made 20 trips with her up to the Virgin
River, which is 145 miles above Fort Mojave, or 75 miles higher than any
other man has gone with a boat: she was 10 feet longer than the "Gila"
or any other boat ever on the River. (Excuse this blowing but it's the
truth).

In 1864 I was on a trip down the Gulf of California, in a small sail
boat and one of my companions was John Stanton. In Angel's Bay a man
whom we were giving a passage to, murdered my partner and ran off with
the boat and left Charley Ticen, John Stanton and myself on the beach.
We were seventeen days tramping to a village