The provisions were frozen, eggs were solid, so was the fresh beef, and they had to be brought inside and thawed before the fire. The cold was accompanied by high winds, that blew the fine sand in blinding clouds up the narrow streets, drifting it into every crack and crevice of the house, though the shutters were tightly closed, so that a candle was needed all that day. Delia brought the kitchen-utensils inside to prepare our meals, yet, notwithstanding all these precautions, sand sifted into the coffee-pot and over the food, making everything gritty.
In the midst of our work, one of the depositors called to say that a friend of his was ill in a wagon outside. We immediately thawed some eggs, and with a cup of milk made the invalid the most attractive delicacy that the circumstances would admit, and sent it, with the promise of some beef-tea in an hour or two.
During the following day the wind subsided, the room was cleared of the sandy dust, that covered everything with a whitish coat, and we were soon again quite comfortable.
Later we went into Texas for several months’ sojourn, fording the Rio Grande in a terrible wind-storm. The blinding sand swept in great gusts over the river and down the level, desolate road, whirled through the ambulance in stinging blasts, and blew into the faces of the frightened mules. Starting in the forenoon after a hurried, unsatisfactory, gritty breakfast, a floundering drive of ten miles brought us to the chaparral, where we were obliged to halt and camp. The personnel of the party was the most agreeable we had met in all our camping experiences. Besides a very jovial, entertaining physician from New Orleans, there were two intelligent, genial young Englishmen, members of commercial houses in London, regular cockneys, on their first trip through a rough country; everything new and novel was attractive to them, and even exceedingly unpleasant occurrences were accepted with good-nature.
We halted with dry and parched throats by a brackish well, the water of which was scarcely fit to cleanse our faces from the gritty dust, and still less desirable for making coffee, though improvised filtration somewhat improved it. While a fire was kindling, and preparations for dinner were being made, our doctor in utter despair was heard to exclaim, “I would give a thousand dollars for a good drink of brandy!” to which I promptly replied, “There’s a whole bottle of cognac in my trunk to be had for less than that.” My husband, knowing full well the importance of keeping a small supply on hand, looked very anxious, and shook his head; but the offer was renewed, only exacting the promise, as it was a full bottle, the cork never having been disturbed, that the contents should be equally divided among all the gentlemen. Of course, the proposition met with universal approval, and the doctor, with smacking lips, readily accepted the conditions. To the insinuation that the existence of the brandy was a myth, the ready reply came, “The collector gave me a bottle full of brandy on New Year’s, with the injunction not to open it except in dire emergency. That time has come.” From my trunk in the wagon was then produced, amid the intense hilarity of the crowd, a dainty toy-bottle holding perhaps a wine-glass of liquor, and the disappointed doctor was compelled to fulfill the agreement, by which each gentleman of the party received about “forty drops.”
Following the old routine of travel and camping-out, I often became stiff and weary from the tedious rides, and found the change to a brisk walk very refreshing. When the teams rested beside a stream or well at noon, I frequently walked long distances on the lonely and desolate roads before the ambulance overtook me. We halted on the pebbly bank of the Frio to rest and refresh the mules and soak the wheels, whose tires in the long, dusty drive had become loose and unsafe. I walked up the road, perhaps a mile, enjoying the quiet and relief which a change of locomotion afforded. Suddenly was perceived at the top of a slight rise a “solitary horseman” slowly approaching. While I was still looking at him, uncertain what to do, he sprung from his horse, and advanced with rapid steps, leading the animal by the bridle.
Having been so often warned of the hazard incurred by these lonely walks, I was paralyzed with alarm, till the spell was broken by the familiar voice of Mr. Crossan, our commissary and chef of months ago: “Mrs. ——! I would have known that bonnet on Mount Ararat!”
We found San Antonio to be the most attractive and interesting town we had visited in all our journeyings. Though laid out with some regularity, and ornamented by several modern structures, its narrow streets, many low stone houses, quaint churches, and busy plaza, mark its Spanish origin.
The San Antonio River, clear as crystal, heads from two springs a short distance above the town, and through its tortuous channel and irrigating canals the water is carried in easy access to most of the houses. The missions are curiosities. Those of Conception, San José, San Juan, and La Espada, are within a couple of miles of the city. Although now in dilapidated condition, they bear full evidence of the substantial architecture and elaborate finish of the immense establishments erected nearly two centuries ago to extend the power and authority of the Roman Catholic Church.
Here stands the Alamo, celebrated in the history of Texan independence as the scene of the desperate struggle between the Mexican army under General Santa Anna and one hundred and fifty Texans, in which every one of the latter was slaughtered, among them the eccentric Davy Crockett and the heroic Bowie.