From
Caldera - A Man of Blood
Caldera rolled over in the dust. His guts blazed and every breath
stoked the flames. Blood from the gashes across his stomach splattered the sand in the wash where he writhed and rolled. He
had thought the worst of it was behind him, but the poison had not worked itself out of his system. Its effects returned with
searing agony. He held in a scream and then another. He would be easy prey for any wandering Apache warrior or gold-crazed
lunatic haunting the south end of the Superstitions. Caldera pounded his right fist into the sand once, twice and three times
before he fainted.
He fought his way back to awareness, not wanting to face the old witch and her nightmare
world again. As the sun crawled down behind the high ridge to the West its deep golden rays flared around the unexpected.
Caldera, a second before he passed out again, saw the biggest, most god-awful size elephant in the world. Its skin was a hard,
smooth gray and its one visible eye was a dark shadow. The long trunk fell into the earth pointing south. Hell, a hundred
men could ride its back. The beast had to be bigger than any building in all of Arizona Territory. How such an animal
could get here in the Superstitions was beyond him. Life itself was almost beyond him. Damn I'd surely like to hear that
that thing roar ‘for it stomps me into the ground. When he passed out he could swear the damn think winked at him.
# # #
"Seeing the Elephant"
Caldera wasn't the first in
the West to "see the elephant," although the others saw the beast in a much different context. Caldera had seen
Elephant Butte, a very real and very large chunk of rock. The other "elephant" was mythical, yet the effects of
seeing it were real and often tragic. "Seeing the elephant" referred to a point in a journey when someone, some
family or some group gave up, turned around and headed back home. It was a statement of failure. Fans of the mini-series Centennial
will remember Levi and Ellie Zendt reaching such a point on their journey toward Oregon.
No one is sure
where the expression originated, but this is one of my favorites. A New England farmer, perhaps a relative of Levi's, had
heard of, but had never seen an elephant. When he heard that a circus was coming to a nearby town, he promised himself a trip
to see the monster for himself. As he headed out he came to a crossroad in which the view was blocked by tall hedges. As luck
would have it, the circus wagons were approaching the same blind intersection at the same time. The elephant was riding in
the last wagon. As you might guess, the farmer, his wagon and his horse were run over and nearly pulverized by the speeding
circus wagons. Sore and dizzy, the farmer stood up to see the wagons disappear over the hill. He looked at the personal destruction
and ruin around him and said, "Well, at least I've seen the elephant."
Elephant Butte
This particular elephant is a short drive north of Queen Valley, AZ on (appropriately) Elephant Butte Drive. The rugged dirt
road takes the driver by the community's golf course and into the very southern edge of the Superstition Mountains. Once the
butte comes into view, you will have no doubt as to how it earned its name.