Sul Ross State University - Brand Yearbook (Alpine, TX)

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Presbyterian Canyon RESBYTERIAN CANYON, though just off the Border Highway, retains the air of seclusion and wild beauty of the days when it overlooked the old Indian trail, winding through Paisano Pass and skirting Lover’s Rock and Kokernot Springs on its long way from Presidio across the Big Bend. But if be¬ hind those boulders, lighted frequently now by the bonfires of college students, Indian braves long ago danced their ceremonial dances, the canyon has not betrayed their secrets. Only its neighbors, Lover’s Rock across a little stream to the south, and Breakfast Nook, a wood-circled space a quarter of a mile to the west, have yielded up their evidence of Indian habitation. At Lover’s Rock wagon trains of provisions and gold en route from Presidio to Fort Stockton encountered attacking Apaches, who dropped an occasional arrow head along the route. And Break¬ fast Nook, with its adjacent water hole, was once, as numerous recently discovered molinos, or hand mills, testify, an Indian camp site. A canyon that looked down on stern councils of war and bloody frays might well regard as ironic the names — “Lover’s Rock”, “Breakfast Nook”, and “Presbyterian Canyon” — bestowed by picnickers, in these uneventful days, on places that once probably bore the more picturesque Indian names, with their connotation of high romance or grim fate. But the imperturbable walls of the canyon reflect neither scorn nor amused tolerance. Rugged, impassive as the face of an Indian chief, they look out upon the automobiles speeding along the highway. Page 23

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A T HE crumbling adobe stockade and barracks and the more durable stone of Officer’s Row at Old Fort Davis stand guard as faithfully now as in the days of Indian warfare, though there is little to stand guard over now save the memories and associations of a heroic past. The earliest ot those memories go back more than half a century, for though the permanent build¬ ings were not erected until 18G7, the Post was established by Secretary of War, Jefferson Davis, in 1854, and but for a brief period of abandonment during the Civil War, the Fort was the setting for dramatic scenes until its final abandonment in 181)1. Through all these years it has hoarded its wealth — tales of daring, of noble sacrifice, of death, and of love. Of these myriad legends and tales none is more poignantly beautiful than that of the Indian maiden who gave lie] life to save the man she loved from death at the hands of her people. Wounded during one of the Apache raids on the Fort, she had been left to die beside the trail, but Mrs. Faston, the mother, ot a young Lieutenant, Thomas Easton, took the girl into the Fort and nursed her back to life. For two years the shy, grateful maiden lived in the Easton home. Then one night she stole away to her people, and no one knew, perhaps, that she had gone heart¬ broken because the young lieutenant, to whom she had given her love, was to be married the next day to a charming American girl. For a year there was no explanation of the mysterious dis¬ appearance of the Indian girl. Then one night the sentry on duty heard a stealthy, footstep. He challenged, but received no reply. He fired, and the scream of a woman answered the shot. Dying, the Indian maiden gasped a warning: her people were coming to kill and burn; ‘‘Tom” must be saved. And she was dead without the happy realization that her warning had been timely, that her life had saved the Fort and the man she loved. Page 25