Like many rivers of the arid Southwest, the Gila is for much of its length a dry bed except after seasonal rains. Yet a mere century ago it hosted a thriving biological community, and two centuries ago American Indians fished from its banks. It is no mystery how the desert swallowed up the Gila. Beaver trapping, overgrazing, and woodcutting first ruined natural watersheds, then damming confined the last drops of its surface flow. Historical sources and archaeological data inform us of the Gila's past, but its bird life further testifies to the changes. Amadeo Rea traces the decline of bird life on the Middle Gila in a book that addresses the broader issue of habitat deterioration. Bird lovers will find it a storehouse of data on avian migration patterns and on ornithological classification based on skeletal structure. Anthropologists can draw on its Piman ethnoclassification of birds, which links the Gila River tribe with various other Uto-Aztecan peoples of Mexico's west coast. But for all concerned with protecting our environment, Once a River offers evidence of change that might be apprehended elsewhere. It is a case history of a loss that perhaps need never have occurred.

For sixty million years, the Gila River, longer than the Hudson and the Delaware combined, has shaped the ecology of the Southwest from its source in New Mexico to its confluence with the Colorado River in Arizona. Today, for at least half its length, the Gila is dead, like so many of the West’s great rivers, owing to overgrazing, damming, and other practices. This richly documented cautionary tale narrates the Gila’s natural and human history. Now updated, McNamee’s study traces recent efforts to resuscitate portions of this important riparian corridor.

Diverting the Gilaexplores the complex web of tension, distrust, and political maneuvering to divide and divert the scarce waters of Arizona's Gila River among residents of Florence, Casa Grande, and the Pima Indians in the early part of the twentieth century. It is the sequel to David H. DeJong's 2009 Stealing the Gila, and it continues to tell the story of the forerunner to the San Carlos Irrigation Project and the Gila River Indian Community's struggle to regain access to their water.

In 1923, America paid close attention, via special radio broadcasts, newspaper headlines, and cover stories in popular magazines, as a government party descended the Colorado to survey Grand Canyon. Fifty years after John Wesley Powell's journey, the canyon still had an aura of mystery and extreme danger. At one point, the party was thought lost in a flood. Something important besides adventure was going on. Led by Claude Birdseye and including colorful characters such as early river-runner Emery Kolb, popular writer Lewis Freeman, and hydraulic engineer Eugene La Rue, the expedition not only made the first accurate survey of the river gorge but sought to decide the canyon's fate. The primary goal was to determine the best places to dam the Grand. With Boulder Dam not yet built, the USGS, especially La Rue, contested with the Bureau of Reclamation over how best to develop the Colorado River. The survey party played a major role in what was known and thought about Grand Canyon. The authors weave a narrative from the party's firsthand accounts and frame it with a thorough history of water politics and development and the Colorado River. The recommended dams were not built, but the survey both provided base data that stood the test of time and helped define Grand Canyon in the popular imagination. Also by Robert Webb: Lee's Ferry

By 1850 the Pima Indians of central Arizona had developed a strong and sustainable agricultural economy based on irrigation. As David H. DeJong demonstrates, the Pima were an economic force in the mid-nineteenth century middle Gila River valley, producing food and fiber crops for western military expeditions and immigrants. Moreover, crops from their fields provided an additional source of food for the Mexican military presidio in Tucson, as well as the U.S. mining districts centered near Prescott. For a brief period of about three decades, the Pima were on an equal economic footing with their non-Indian neighbors. This economic vitality did not last, however. As immigrants settled upstream from the Pima villages, they deprived the Indians of the water they needed to sustain their economy. DeJong traces federal, territorial, and state policies that ignored Pima water rights even though some policies appeared to encourage Indian agriculture. This is a particularly egregious example of a common story in the West: the flagrant local rejection of Supreme Court rulings that protected Indian water rights. With plentiful maps, tables, and illustrations, DeJong demonstrates that maintaining the spreading farms and growing towns of the increasingly white population led Congress and other government agencies to willfully deny Pimas their water rights. Had their rights been protected, DeJong argues, Pimas would have had an economy rivaling the local and national economies of the time. Instead of succeeding, the Pima were reduced to cycles of poverty, their lives destroyed by greed and disrespect for the law, as well as legal decisions made for personal gain.

The Colorado River had one of the most unique fish communities in the world. Seventy-five percent of those species were found nowhere else in the world. Settlement of the lower basin brought dramatic change to both the river and its native fish. Those changes began more than 120 years ago as settlers began stocking nonnative fishes. By 1930, nonnative fish had spread throughout the lower basin and replaced native communities. All resemblance of historic river conditions faded with the construction of Hoover Dam in 1935 and other large water development projects. Today, few remember what the Colorado River was really like. Seven of the nine mainstream fishes are now Federally-protected as endangered. Federal and state agencies are attempting to recover these fish. However, progress has been frustrated due to the severity of human impact. This report represents testimony, old descriptions, and photographs describing the changes that have taken place in hopes that it will provide managers, biologists, and the interested public a better appreciation of the environment that shaped these unique fish.

Established in 1873, the San Carlos Indian Agency provided a reservation for the areas Western Apache bands. A U.S. Army post was created nearby to exert military control. Together the original agency and army post are known today as Old San Carlos. From 1874 to 1877, the U.S. governments peace policy directed additional Apache groups and other regional natives to San Carlos. Ensuing turmoil, including renewal of traditional intergroup rivalries and rebellion against civilian and military control, initiated the familiar Apache Wars. These campaigns were fought through the 1870s and 1880s, as Apache rebels intermittently broke from the reserve and returned to former haunts or sought refuge in northern Mexico. By all accountsfrom white civilians, military personnel, and native people alikethe San Carlos Agency and army post was an inhospitable locale, compounded by recurring instability and conflict.