|
 A
cold, dreary Chicago winter day in the late 1880s
brought bad news to Marjorie McNulty. Her physician
had just diagnosed her lung ailment as tuberculosis.
He recommended Marjorie move immediately to the hot
and dry desert of Arizona Territory. Believing there
was little hope, Marjorie prepared for her trip to
the Southwest.
In those days very few people recovered and survived
from this dreaded lung disease. Those who contracted
tuberculosis were sent to “lunger” (sic) camps in
Arizona, New Mexico, Texas and southern California,
but few ever left these camps alive. Some camps were
prisons without bars and members of these camps were
social outcasts. Conditions in these camps were
often severe.
Miss McNulty arrived in Arizona Territory on January
11, 1893. She reported to a camp just northeast of
Phoenix, where Scottsdale is located today.
Marjorie’s residence in this camp had been
pre-arranged by her father and physician. For the
most part they planned on Marjorie spending the rest
of her life there. However, this was not her desire.
Tuberculosis or not, she did not plan to just lie
down and die.
After several months of basking in the hot rays of
the Arizona sun, Marjorie’s condition improved and
her strength began to return. It wasn’t too long
before she was on her feet and moving about the
camp. The camp physician allowed her privileges
other camp residents or patients were not permitted.
One of these privileges was riding one of the team
horses into the desert on the weekends. By the end
of October 1898, Marjorie knew her health had
returned and she even doubted the diagnosis of her
physician in Chicago. She also realized the camp
physician had no intention of releasing her— healthy
or not.
 By December 1898, Marjorie had become an assistant
nurse to the camp physician and at this point she
realized she would be working in the camp for the
rest of her life. She felt like a prisoner. While
riding east of the camp one Sunday Marjorie came up
on an old Mexican wood cutter. During their
conversation, he told her about an Indian medicine
man that could cure all diseases that afflicted man
or beast. Marjorie took this information with a
grain of salt, but expressed an interest. The old
Mexican wood cutter gave her directions how to find
the old Indian Medicine man and his camp near
Superstition Mountain. Marjorie looked east toward
Superstition Mountain looming on the horizon.
Marjorie carefully planned her departure from the “lunger”
camp on March 3, 1899. She planned on seeking refuge
in the Superstition Mountains and never returning to
the camp. She rode away from the camp late in the
evening meaning to never return again. She would be
searching Superstition Mountain for the medicine man
known as Makai.
As she made her way across the desert, dark clouds
gathered overhead. When she neared the site of Jim
Bark’s line camp on the northwest edge of
Superstition Mountain, she turned south following a
canyon. On the distant horizon she could see a
needle-shaped peak. It was near here she had been
told by the Mexican woodcutter she could find the
old Indian medicine man.
“You will spot the smoke of his camp without any
problem,” she was told.
By evening of the next day she had reached her
destination. Her energy had been sapped by the long
ride. She tied her horse to a tree for the night.
Locating a small cave she decided to spent the night
and search for Makai the next day.
It rained all night and by morning Marjorie was cold
and weak. As she peered from the entrance of the
cave she could see her horse was gone. During the
night he had broken away and probably returned to
the “lunger” camp.
After this long ordeal she was hungry, weak, and
cold. Sensing her situation as hopeless, she closed
her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Only by chance
was her sleep interrupted by a barking dog.
Opening her eyes, she could see a dog and an old
Indian standing in the entrance of the small cave.
At first he did not speak, but in his eyes she could
see concern and compassion. This was Marjorie’s
first meeting with Makai and many years later she
wrote the following narrative:
“His hair was silver-grey and long, very coarse. His
hands were calloused and his skin was wrinkled. He
stood just five foot in height and somewhat bent
forward. He wore nothing more than a loin cloth and
some kind of a fur blanket for protection against
the early morning cold. He carried three bags around
his waist, colorfully painted. On his feet he wore
deerskin moccasins. On his right side he carried a
beautifully ornamented knife. He spoke with broken
English extremely difficult to understand at
first.”
Marjorie further wrote, “When I realized I was
plucked from the jaws of death, a surge of new
energy returned to my body. Slowly we conversed and
I tried to explain why I was seeking his help. He
told me to lie and rest, he would soon return for
me. The old medicine man commanded his dog to stay
with me.
Soon he returned with some small branches and twigs
to build a fire. He then heated a small bowl of herb
broth that soon began to steam. When the broth was
warm he had me drink it. As we sat and struggled to
communicate with each other, my strength began to
return. He asked me to follow him to his camp. He
said I would be safe there and welcome for as long
as I wanted to stay.”
She continued, “Makai’s camp was located in a small
canyon just west of Weaver’s Needle. The old man
lived in a cave and part of a brush lean-to. He had
water stored in goat-skin bags hanging from a
Mesquite tree branch. As I looked the camp over I
couldn’t imagine myself living here the rest of my
life, but anything was better than the lunger camp.
“After a couple of weeks I made a choice to remain
with Makai and his wilderness homeland. The freedom
of the mountains was far better than the isolation
of the camp. I roamed the Superstitions with Makai,
enjoying every minute of it. I would have remained
his disciple forever, but on the morning of December
10, 1900, I tried to wake Makai and I found that his
spirit had left his body. He was dead!”
It was January 1901 before Marjorie McNulty finally
made her way back to Chicago. She married a young
mining engineer in 1906 and moved to South Africa.
Marjorie had found her health in the Superstition
Mountains of Arizona with the guidance of Makai. He
had helped return her to a productive life.
Marjorie McNulty passed away in 1954 leaving behind
a legacy on the Superstition Mountains in the form
of a diary. Her story is another of the endless
tales about the Superstition Wilderness Area. |
