16th.—I took my seat quietly in the tent this morning and thought I would rest, as we were to stay a day or two at this place. I was presently surrounded by soldiers begging me to write a few lines for them “to father, mother, wives, friends and homes.” I wrote seven letters without removing from a kneeling posture, and was kept busy almost the whole day.
17th.—Our Captain told us to get ready to start at 10 o’clock to-day, and as we were to cross a sandy desert 60 miles wide, much water and provisions were to be packed. A number of us were kept busy cleaning the salt from pork barrels in order to fill them with water. Scarcely had we finished this hard job; when the news spread like electricity “that the mail from Fort Leavenworth had come in.” I cannot pretend to describe the scene that ensued. I met our Captain, who said “the Sergeant had a letter for me”—with the most peculiar feelings I seized it and saw the hand-writing of my loved sister in Maryland—my home, now so many weary leagues away. The delight I experienced was not unmingled, however, with the thought that perhaps at this very spot, the entrance to a wild desert, I had bid adieu finally to all I held dear. We travelled 22 miles, and as it was late at night when we halted, we spread our blankets on the sand and slept soundly till morning.
18th.—I rose by day-light and took a slice of bread and meat. We started early and came 23 miles, where we found some water standing in pools. We tried to erect the tents, but the wind was too high—had to cook that night with buffalo chips; strange fuel even for soldiers to use.
19th.—After marching 10 miles to-day, we came to the Cimarone Springs—a sweet stream. Here we found grass enough for our poor horses. It is truly an oasis in the desert.
Sunday, 20th.—We crossed an arm of the Cimarone, but the waters were dried up—dug for water but found none. Went on 5 miles further, dug again, and procured enough for ourselves and horses. In our route of 25 miles we saw the ground encrusted with salt. A singular animal attracted our notice. It was a horned frog, a great curiosity. Every thing was involved in a thick cloud of dust.
21st.—One of the members of the Randolph Company, a gentleman by the name of Jones, died last night of consumption. He took the trip for his health, but to-day his remains were interred, not far from the camp, with the honors of war.
22nd.—We still travelled on the Cimarone, though only at certain places could we procure water. A deep sand retarded the progress of the army. On arriving where we had to encamp we found 42 wagons, laden with goods. They were the property of a Mr. Gentry, a trader who has amassed great wealth, in merchandising between Independence, Santa Fe and Chihuahua. He speaks the Spanish language, and had nearly a dozen Spaniards in the caravan.
23d.—We had a considerable storm last night—and the hard rain made it rather disagreeable, especially so to me, as I had to do the duty of a sentinel in the first watch, with a wolf howling most dismally within 50 yards of me. I would have fired at him, but I had to obey orders and not arouse the camp by a false alarm. We saw to-day the bones of 91 mules, which perished in a snow-storm last winter. The bones were piled by the road side.
24th.—Overtook another caravan—still passing up the Cimarone, whose bed is through the sandy plain, at length we came to a hill from whence we descried the Rocky Mountains, rising abruptly in the distance. In our route we crossed a small spur. Mr. White our first Lieutenant, with several others ascended one, which presented the appearance of frowning rocky precipices. From its highest peaks, he brought down seashell, and petrifactions of various kinds. We had great difficulty in procuring buffalo chips. It was very amusing to see the boys in search of this indispensable article, our only resource to cook with.
25th.—We reached “Cool Spring” to-day, and found refreshing and delightful water, bursting from a solitary rock of enormous dimensions, the sides of which are covered with the names of various travellers. Our pleasant officer, Mr. White, called me up saying “he wished to see my name on a spot he pointed out,”—so taking a hearty draught from his canteen, which was just filled, I went up, and had scarcely carved my name, to remain there a monument of my folly, I suppose, when I discovered my horse making off with my accoutrements, canteen, &c. Hurried down and started after the beast. After running a great distance in the deep sand, I succeeded in capturing the runaway. Nineteen miles further on we encamped in a deep ravine, among cliffs and rocks, here a few cedar trees were found. They afforded a seasonable supply of wood to cook with. The Rocky Mountains were in sight all day.