Juan Espinosa, who owned a few cattle and always attended our rodeo, one day when we were at a certain spring up on the mountains facing the desert towards Mesa, said, "Mr. Bark, when I was a boy about eighteen, an old Pima Indian asked me to go with him, and he would show me a spring and we would go partners and go into the horse business."

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"So I came out with him and he brought me here to this spring, saying 'Here Juan, is where we will make a ranch and raise lots of Horses.'"

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I said, "Joe," (everyone called the old Indian Joe) "we ain't got any money. We can't buy mares to start a ranch."

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Joe said, "Over the big mountain, lots of gold." And no matter how often I referred to the shortage of money, old Joe would repeat, "Over the big mountain plenty of gold." "I still didn't want to go into the venture. I was a Mexican boy eighteen years old. All I thought of was cows and girls, and a good horse to ride."

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Finally old Joe said, "Juan, come on and we will go over the mountain, and I will show you. We will be back tonight."

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"But I would not go, and Joe died shortly afterward, and I never gave it another thought until I was about forty years old, married and had a family, and cattle were selling for five dollars a head. You bet I thought of old Joe."