WEDNESDAY, MAY 12th.
Turned out this morning about the usual time, and found the train standing at San Martine Station, 174 miles east of El Paso. As we move on our way again we find we are passing through a picturesque, but barren
country of plains and mountain ranges. A run of 50 miles from San Martine brings us to Van Horn, where we make a halt of forty-five minutes and are entertained by Mrs. M. R. Beach and her son Fred. Mrs. Beach has charge of the station at Van Horn, which is also a supply station for the railroad. Fred. is a young man about twenty-five years old, and a veritable cowboy both in appearance and deportment. He entertained and amused the party with an exhibition of bronco riding, and to show his skill in the use of the lasso, chased Brother Wyman and lassoed him with the bronco at a full run. Miss Myrtle Taylor, a young lady who is visiting Mrs. Beach, also rode the bronco for the amusement of the party, but it was noticed that the animal exhibited a far more gentle spirit under the young lady’s management than it did when in charge of Fred. A cyclone cellar in the back yard was an object of much interest, and the interior was explored by several of the party. All the dwellings, of which there are but few through this region, we are told, have their cyclone pits. For many miles through this country there are no habitations except along the line of the railroad, and the people are all employes of the Texas and Pacific Railroad Company.
Leaving Van Horn, we pass close to the Sierra Blanca Mountain range, and in a short time stop at Sierra Blanca, where we lay over for half an hour and devote the time to looking around. Sierra Blanca is 92 miles southeast of El Paso and is the conjunction of the Texas and Pacific and Southern Pacific Railroads, which use joint tracks from this point to El Paso. A number of us visited the adobe residence of Jacob Hand, an aged miner and prospector, who kindly allowed us to inspect his dwelling, which is a very unique and novel affair, a part of which is used for a school, and the old gentleman is the teacher. Mr. Hand generously gave our party specimens of gold, silver, and copper ore, which are highly prized as souvenirs. Brother Haas had considerable difficulty in getting in range of the old gentleman with his kodak, but succeeded by strategy in getting a “snap” before we left; also one of a group of the party with the dwelling in the background. In the midst of the group is seen a Mexican babe held in the arms of one of the ladies of the party, who is closely watched by the mother of the infant, who fears her babe will be appropriated for a souvenir.
Leaving Sierra Blanca, we pass in sight and within about 20 miles of Livermore’s Peak, 8200 feet high, said to be the highest point in Texas. We have now entered a wild, barren, broken, uninhabited region, hemmed in by dreary, ominous-looking mountain ranges. As the road traverses this broken, desolate district, there are places where almost complete circles are made in order to avoid ridges and ravines. Just after passing Malone Station, 15 miles from Sierra Blanca, we encounter a curve, and after following the circle for over a mile, find the tracks are less than 200 yards apart.
Mrs. Wyman, Mrs. Layfield, Mrs. Shaw, Brother Layfield, and myself rode on the engine from Finlay to Ft. Hancock, which afforded us a fine view of the rugged scenery through which we passed. We arrived at washout, 5 miles east of El Paso, at 5.30 (4.30 Central) P. M., and find our train can proceed no further until the track is repaired, four miles of it at the present time being under water.
Wagons were in waiting to convey the party six miles across a desert plateau to El Paso at one dollar per head; all but a few took advantage of this method of reaching the city. The remembrance of this ride will not fade from the memory in a hurry—six miles of knee-deep, red-hot desert, dust and sand, through which the horses could scarcely drag their loads. We have a good view of the flooded district and notice many buildings surrounded with water, the occupants of which were forced to flee to higher ground. All this water, we are told, is the result of melting snows away up in the mountain districts, 75 or 80 miles away. There is seldom any rain through this region, and the Rio Grande, one half the year a shallow, insignificant stream, is to-day spread over many miles of country, causing devastation, ruin, and suffering.
Arriving in the city of El Paso, we are obliged to seek for accommodations, which causes a separation of our party. The Firemen’s State Convention is in progress here, and the town is full of visitors. Ten of us found rooms at the “Grand Central,” some at “Vendome,” and a number at the “Pierson.” The latter is the most popular place, and an effort was made to get the entire party quartered there, but it could not be done. After engaging rooms at the “Grand Central” we went across the river, which is not overflowed at this point, into the old Mexican town of Ciudad Juarez, the Paso del Norte of our childhood geographies.
Under the escort of Conductors T. H. Purcell and Charles Allen, of the Southern Pacific, we were shown much that was of interest. We were introduced by Captain Purcell to Signor Miguel Ahuamada, the gentlemanly Governor of the State of Chihuahua, who entertained us very nicely for half an hour, giving us an international treat, which ceremony consists of drinks of whatever each member of the party wishes, the guests forming in a semicircle in front of the Governor, touching glasses with him as they pass. Captain Purcell at the same time made a speech in the Mexican language, with which he is thoroughly conversant, having at one time filled the position of Government Interpreter at this point. Of course none of us understood a thing that he said, but we felt sure it was all right from the pleased expression on his Honor’s, face, who replied in a pleasant manner in his native tongue.
Purcell told us afterward that he had informed the Governor that we were a party of Americans who had called to do him honor; that we drank to his health and a long and happy life; that we had the highest regard for Mexican institutions, believing them to be the best in the world; that their men were the noblest and their women the most beautiful we had ever met; that we wore upon our bosoms the colors of the Mexican flag, which we considered, next to the Stars and Stripes, the most beautiful banner in the world, and we hoped it would ever wave in triumph and in peace over an empire that would continue to increase in prosperity and wealth. No wonder the old man smiled; we would have smiled too had we understood what was being said. The red, white and green of our tourist badges had caught his eye and he was pleased. Captain Purcell’s speech flatters him and he wants to do something to show his appreciation.
Our visit does him great honor, and he desires to reciprocate; had he time to arrange for a bull fight he could give us much amusement, but his best bull was killed a short time ago and his matadors are out of training; but he has a prisoner under the sentence of death, and if we will return on the morrow he will execute him for our pleasure and entertainment. Captain Purcell made us acquainted with this proposition, which we declined with thanks. We had no desire to see the poor fellow shot, which is their method of administering capital punishment. Bidding his Honor adieu, we are next escorted through several of the principal gambling resorts and are much interested in all we see. It is growing late, and when we return to El Paso and reach our rooms it is midnight.