Some of the more interesting ghost stories of Arizona are the ones that were told by the first settlers who witnessed unexplained phenomena of the state's early territorial days. At one time the country was wild and overcome by road agents, and fights were a daily occurrence. Many of the custodians of the bars of bullion that left the mines to the railroad were ambushed and murdered by robbers. The hijackers melted the gold and sold it for their own profit. A common report by the old stage drivers was that the places where these robberies and murders occurred were haunted.
The Black Canyon, a gloomy mountain gorge shut in by massive block of basalt and granite, was one of the favorite places for bandits to attack the stage. Many men traveling south from Prescott, Arizona within its boundaries have been killed. There are numerous stories of strange lights and sounds that have been seen and heard by people passing through it late at night.
At one point on the trail, where the gorge widens out about a mile, there was a spring, or desert watering hole called Negro Wells. The valley here is called Skull Valley and this water-hole was a favorite place for the highwaymen to lie in wait for the unsuspecting stage.
One night in 1866 the stage came through carrying an unusually large amount of gold bullion—but it also came along with an escort of soldiers. When it arrived at the water well, as usual, it was halted. The robbers didn’t even bother to disguise themselves. They simply walked up to take charge of the booty. However, this time they were met with a volley of shots and one of the robbers was killed. He was not buried, and for several years his grinning skull lay by the roadside—giving the name (Skull Valley) to the area. From that time on, the stage drivers said the place was haunted. Finally the stage stop was abandoned, though remains of an adobe ruin stood there for quite some time.
The stage going south passed the haunted site late at night. Leaving Prescott on the morning of December 31, the stage arrived at the alleged haunted location about midnight. This happened to be on the anniversary of the day and hour of the killing of the bandit. The trip through the canyon is gloomy and at night (and especially in the winter) it is worse. The drivers always whipped up their horses to get through the passage as quickly as possible.
On this particular trip, a passenger noted the sky was cloudy, and the encircling rocks made it very dark except every now and then when the moon shone through a gap in the black sky. This threw shadows across the trail in a way that suggested all sorts of mysterious objects even if one was not suspecting to see the ghosts of robbers stalking the path.
They changed horses at the old Stanton station and the driver asked his passenger to take a seat with him on the box to avoid the loneliness of the late night ride, so he did. About midnight they came to the head of Skull Valley and in a run started down the decline on which the old adobe station stood. Stage robbing days were not entirely over in Arizona and they were looking out on each side of the road to see a robber with cocked rifle demand the express box, but none appeared. They were just beginning to feel at ease when the old adobe came in sight.
As they drove around the corner of the corral, the figure of a man was seen running from behind the wall and they both distinctly heard the command to halt. The passenger had no idea of anything of the supernatural, and as the figure had a mask on his face and a gun in its hands, he was disposed to heed the command. They were going downhill, though, and as the mules were in a gallop, it was no easy task to bring them up. The driver, instead of crying, “Whoa” laid on the whip with all his might.
The frightened passenger was on the side with the robber and expected every second to hear the gun crack and feel the cold wind whistle through him. The robber clutched the bit of one of the mules, which reared and kicked, at the imminent risk of throwing the coach over. The man held on for twenty feet, then with a groan, dropped under the hoofs of the animals.
In a few minutes the driver was able to control the team and with a pistol in each hand they jumped to the ground intending to capture the bandit—but no one was there. Thinking he was only wounded by the feet of the mules they took a lantern and looked for tracks he would have made in his escape but there were none. To their surprise the sand was very soft but yet there were no tracks. Not feeling reassured by the appearances, they climbed up on the stage and drove rapidly toward Phoenix.
The next day they related the incident to another old driver who had been on the line since that fateful New Year’s night of the murder of the robber. He said that ever since that New Year’s Eve, the ghost would hold up the stage up at the same place and hour, falling under the horses’ feet where he was shot by the soldier.
So who needs the New Year's party on Mill Avenue when you can drive up to Skull Valley and await the arrival of the bandit ghost at midnight?
Skull Valley and Stanton are located about a two hour drive northwest of Phoenix
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For more information: Debe Branning nazanaza@aol.com
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