OUR plan was to head into Indian country, out to the east of Phoenix, which would see us dip back into New Mexico. Our reason for this was we have a feeling for the Apaches. It is now appreciated these south-west Indians had a bad press, much like the wolf.

We drove into Phoenix and noted it was an airy, clean and spacious city, without too many sky-scrapers in the centre and, for the most part, it was a two-storey city.

But the thing we really noted was the large number of palm trees lining roads. It was quite a transformation, confirmed by the plethora of cacti. We have never come across them at eight and ten feet tall before, looking just like the cartoon versions. They grow in abundance there.

Phoenix has some large rocky mountains to the north and east.

Scotsdale looked more sophisticated and it is supposed to have the world’s biggest and best shopping mall, but Ellie, while finding it tempting, wanted to move on. Phoenix did look more of a community-orientated place than some big US cities. There was a nice feel to it.

We drove on and reached the ghost town of Goldfield, which was resurrected and rebuilt in the 1950s along original lines. It had its day in the 19th century, flourished again at the turn of the 20th but then fell into disrepair, only for a plot by the mill to be bought and built on. It certainly looks the part of an old 1880s town.

It is famous for the Dutchman’s gold-mine. He went into Phoenix with his pockets filled with gold, claiming he had found a vein in the Superstitious Mountains, which overlook Goldfield.

He lived well on the proceeds but then died leaving a map, which hundreds have since attempted to interpret. Some 50 have died in the attempt either from heat, gunshot or whatever. It has never been found but right through to the 1960s people kept looking.

Ironically it is only open at weekends during the summer because it is “too darn hot” and is open all the week during the autumn and spring.

They had a small museum there, as they do at several “historical” venues and for a dollar donation you could see a few artefacts, including the coat Redford wore in the excellent film Jeremiah Johnson.

This is most definitely Apache country: arid, cactus-full and rocky.

Originally, Apaches were introduced to white man’s ways by the Spanish, and learnt quickly.

There were various treaties but then the Spanish passed a law to annihilate all Indians. The Mexicans were also so inclined and when Mexico became independent, with so many different ethnic communities and languages, their bureaucracy was in chaos. Their treaties with Indians were all broken – food supplies stopped etc - and when the Apaches complained and started heading back to their homelands, the Mexican government put a bounty on scalps of all Apaches.

The idea of treaties to take the land from the Indians was that governments provided them food so they did not have to hunt or roam. But if the food did not come through and your children were starving, you climbed on a horse and headed out to hunt. The army then chased after you, as you had broken out of the reservation and so broken the agreement. The fact you and your family were starving and they had not been fed as promised did not come into it.

The Mexicans and the Apaches fought for years with the Apaches adopting the Mexican tendency to scalp.

On one occasion the Mexicans, having failed to catch a band, decided to compensate by surrounding a tribe that had been peaceful for years and lived in a camp just outside a town in another state, totally oblivious to any problems. The Mexicans then attacked and killed women and children as well as males.

So the Apaches raided Mexican towns, ran off herds etc. When they were encouraged to come in for peace, they were distrustful and on one occasion, after doing so, one tribe were given alcohol in a great peace celebration and, when all but incapable, murdered.

Inspired by this, and knowing there was a bounty on Apache scalps, an American in Mexico, called Johnson, decided it was time to make peace with the local Apache tribe in what is now New Mexico but was then Mexico. He called them all in to the rendezvous just outside the town of Santa Rita and thought he would get extra money for two sub-chiefs, one being Mangas Colorado (named Red Sleeve).

While the Indians were gorging themselves on the food offered, Johnson signalled the miners to move away. His men, many of them Mexicans, then dropped the covers and blasted the Indians with a howitzer. Two hundred or more were killed but Johnson never did get his bounty. The Indian giant (6ft 2) Mangas Colorado escaped and was to cause havoc. Apache’s have a strict revenge culture. The whole town of Santa Rita was to be wiped out – only six out of 500 escaped and those who fired the howitzer died, but Johnson escaped penniless.

Mangas Colorado was the big chief in the wars against Mexico, the first of three top names in that theatre of Indian suppression.

Ironically there is no marker to this double tragedy because Santa Rita no longer exists. The site is an open cast mine.

Anyway we drove onto Globe and stayed the night, and noted they have a hospice called The Crossing. Tasteful. Ellie suggested the Last Goodbye.

They have various signs such as “Look out for falling rocks” which someone had doctored approaching Sedona with the addition of “Big Red”.

The next morning, we headed into the Apache reservation. I will pick up on the remainder of our trip at a later date.