May 12 (New River).
Our first three days' travel was very pleasant, as we had good roads, and it is much better to travel with one's own company. We have four mules in our ambulance, the back seat of which I occupy alone in my glory as Anson rides his horse. We have five six-mule wagons, a teamster, of course, to each, and over seventy men, so you see we have a very large escort. Our fourth day's travel was a little the worst of anything I have ever seen. Anson and Mr. Wessels have traveled a great deal and over very bad roads, but they both say that this was the worst one that they have ever seen. You may judge how bad it was when we were from seven o'clock in the morning 'til six at night going about fifteen miles, and the wagons were an hour later. The first nine miles was over rocks that jolted the ambulance so that I could hardly sit in the seat, and I was almost wearied out. The rest of the road was up hill and down hill, and the most terrible hills that I ever saw—they were almost perpendicular. I walked several miles, because the hills were so bad I was afraid to ride. Anyone living in the States would think it an utter impossibility to take vehicles up some places where we went. One wagon was upset, and that of course caused a delay. You would have been amused to see how they brought one wagon up a hill. The wagons were all lightly loaded and had six mules; they put an extra pair of mules in, one man rode one of the wheel mules, another walked on one side with a whip, and two boys were on the other with stones, pelting the mules, and with a volley of oaths and cracking of whips, up they came. One wagon was eased down a hill by twenty men taking hold of a rope behind, and another was helped up with the men's assistance. It was a wearisome day for men and mules. This morning, when we were about a mile out, the lead bar of our ambulance broke, which caused another delay to fix. Mr. Wessels' horse got lame, and a horse kicked one of the mules so badly that they couldn't use him. We have had a chapter of accidents for two days, and in addition, today we ran across a fresh moccasin track, evidently made today.
May 18th (Camp McDowell).
We reached here on the 15th, being just seven days on the road. The day before we got in we rested a day, as one of the men who had been over the road said there was a thirty-five miles march without water, and the weather being warm the men and animals can do with less water by traveling at night, so we left our last camp at about five o'clock in the evening and traveled 'til midnight, then rested for four hours, spreading our bedding in the sand and with the sky for a covering, then at four in the morning starting again, and got in the post at six, finding that the man had made a mistake in the distance, as it was only twenty-three miles. One of the mules strayed away and was not found again.
We lived very well on the road, as we had quails, fresh fish, and best of all, Anson shot a large deer with his revolver. It was a mighty good shot, as the deer was a hundred yards off. It weighed over a hundred pounds dressed. We had one hind quarter, kept the other one for Major Dudley, who is in command here, and the rest made a meal for all the men, teamsters and laundresses, so you see it was a pretty large one. I told Anson father would have enjoyed it. You know you thought it would be so unpleasant for us to be without vegetables, well today for dinner we had peas, lettuce, and young onions out of the government farm. Anyone can have a garden here if he chooses to take the trouble.
Our quarters are very comfortable; the houses are built of adobe and have three rooms and a kitchen. On first entering the quarters you would say, "It would be folly to put down carpets or attempt in any way to fix up here, for it would only serve to make the rest look worse," but you have no idea how much good a little fixing up does. The floors are mud, which is as hard and as dry as a bone. I have spread the curtains out to hide as much of the wall as possible, and as there is only one window I have arranged the remaining curtains in festoons over and around the front door, which is half of glass. The parlor is only twelve by twelve, so I ripped off one breadth of the carpet and turned it in over a yard on the length. The post is almost destitute of furniture, so we have a large barrel covered with a board, then a red blanket which, with Anson's desk on top, makes a respectable piece of furniture; then a chest with the ambulance cushions on top and covered with the carriage blanket, does duty as a divan, which, with two tables and three chairs furnishes (?) the parlor, the bedroom being luxuriously filled with a bedstead and a washstand, and the dining room being amply furnished with one table. The worst of it is there is no lumber in the post to make any of. I have sent by one of the wagons that went back to Whipple for a few articles of furniture I left in the house, as they have plenty of wood up there to make more. I do not know whether I will get it or not, as it is not customary to send furniture from one post to another. They have also sent there for lumber, so we will be able to have things made.
En route we stopped to examine an ancient fort of eight rooms with embrasures on all sides for defense probably for bows and arrows. The walls were twelve feet high, but the roof had been destroyed. Inside one of the rooms was a scrubby cedar tree, perhaps a hundred years old. While walking around on these walls, which were made of thin broad granite rocks, evidently once held in place by mortar, I displaced a stone which rolled down the mound, frightening a large deer, which I killed with my pistol. Tied to my horse's tail after the fashion of the Indians, I dragged it to the train. It is this deer of which Nannie writes.
At Cave Creek, where there were many cougars (Mexican lions), I found in a cave near the spring, which was some distance from our camp, the remains of many deer which had been caught by these lions, dragged into the cave and devoured, some of them being only partly eaten.
McDowell was the most unhappy post at which we ever served. Its commander was of an overbearing, tyrannical disposition, and much addicted to drink. The post traders abetted him and brought about many quarrels between the commander and the officers so that, in the garrison of five companies, there were few friendships.
At this unhappy station Nannie lost about twenty and I thirty pounds in weight.
One day she said to me, "Anson, I am going to Europe some day."
"Whom are you going with?" I asked. It was a joy for me to see her so much more cheerful than I.
"You," she replied.