Desert Book - Desert Magazine of the Southwest

large dwelling room and two smaller
cubicles used for storage purposes.
The living room, which measured 6x15
feet, had a ceiling nowhere over five
feet high, and blackened by smoke.
Both partitions and front wall were
constructed of stone masonry chinked
and plastered with mud mortar.
Granaries
Before Bill and I had finished measuring
and photographing this ruin,
Becky called to us that she had found
two small granaries in the next ravine.
They were well constructed storage
rooms but not especially unusual, and
soon we were hurrying up the valley.
Tingling with the thrill of discovery
and anticipation of the yet-to-come, I
felt a terrific upsurging of joy as my
feet carried me on into the glory of
this October morning. Our way led
into a thicket of small oak trees, where
we scuffed along through the soft
brown dust of a game trail patterned
with the cloven prints of deer and the
pads of smaller wildlings. A Steller's
jay screamed his watchman's warning,
and two large bucks and two does
bounded away through the grove into
the autumn-brown grass and the sage.
Here and there were a few last reminders
of summer — a few purple
asters and scarlet gilias, the last tiptop
blossom of an Indian paintbrush.
There was no sign of contemporary
man—not a gum wrapper, film box
or even a footprint.
The little grove of oaks blended
into a grove of nut pines, and when
we emerged from the trees we lifted
our eyes to sweep the surrounding
cliffs—and suddenly my breath caught
in my throat and I was staring at a
sight I shall never forget as long as I
live.
In a wide sandstone cave, halfway
up the northeast wall of Fable Valley,
nestled a large cliff dwelling—and in
that first matchless moment of discovery
it looked more wonderful to me
than any of the far greater ruins preserved
in our national parks and monuments.
The knowledge that it was
unpublicized, unnamed, unrestored and
even unexplored, for all we knew,
made it a grand and personal thing.
We had a feeling that if we explored
this fine ruin now, anything else the
day might bring would be an anticlimax,
so saving the best for last, we
continued up the valley.
Two Graves
As we walked on, we seldom were
out of sight of chert chippings and
potshards, and continued to find occasional
arrowheads — all small to
medium in size and some displaying
exquisite workmanship. From time to
time we came upon the nearly obliterated
evidence of what may have been
small surface dwellings; or we found
sections of rough stone masonry fitted
into some niche in the sandstone wall
to our right. We also discovered two
installations consisting of a rectangle
of flat stones set on edge to enclose
a plot of earth 24x30 inches in area,
with a larger flat stone implanted at
one end. These rock enclosures were
almost identical to the sepulchers described
in Dr. Byron Cummings' The
Ancient Inhabitants of the San Juan
Valley, published by the University of
Utah in 1910, and there is no doubt
in my mind that each marked the site
of a grave.
At 11 o'clock we reached a major
fork in the canyon. Kent elected to
travel the left-hand fork to its head,
while Bill, Becky, Fern and I went up
the right fork a short distance and
then returned to the junction where
Kent rejoined us. As the arroyo at
this point has a firm sandy floor
threaded by a small flow of cool water,
it was a pleasant place to eat lunch,
refill our canteens, and bathe feet
wearied by five hours of steady walking.
After 30 minutes' rest beside the
little stream we felt much refreshed
and were eager to be on our way back
to the big ruin.
We crossed to the northeast side of
the valley for the return hike, and
were following along the foot of the
bordering wall when Fern shouted that
she had found a sandstone arch. It
was a nice little window, about a dozen
feet across in its widest dimension, and
since it seemed unlikely that it bore
a name I suggested we call it Aesop's
Arch for it seemed to me the old
Greek maker-of-fables should have
some recognition in Fable Valley.
Tight Little Rooms
A short distance beyond the arch,
at the mouth of a tributary canyon,
we came upon two small granaries.
Fitted into a narrow crevice beneath
an overhanging ledge, they were constructed
of stone masonry and mortar
—tight little rooms with small neat
doorways. Both were empty, and
neither had an inside diameter of more
than five feet.
Ascending a ravine about 1000 feet
east of the big ruin, we reached the
approximate level of the cave and then
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