He seemed in very good spirits, asked
for "tobac," and rode along with us some distance - long enough to make
a careful estimate of our value and our strength. Finally he left us
and disappeared over the hills. Then the little escort of ten men
received orders from Faye to be on the alert, and hold themselves and
their rifles ready for a sudden attack.
We rode on and on, hoping to reach the Cimarron Redoubt before dark,
but that had to be given up and camp was made at Snake Creek, ten
miles the other side. Not one Indian had been seen on the road except
the Apache, and this made us all the more uncomfortable. Snake Creek
was where the two couriers were shot by Indians last summer, and that
did not add to our feelings of security - at least not mine. We were in
a little coulee, too, where it would have been an easy matter for
Indians to have sneaked upon us. No one in the camp slept much that
night, and most of the men were walking post to guard the animals. And
those mules! I never heard mules, and horses also, sneeze and cough
and make so much unnecessary noise as those animals made that night.
And Hal acted like a crazy dog - barking and growling and rushing out
of the tent every two minutes, terrifying me each time with the fear
that he might have heard the stealthy step of a murderous savage.
Everyone lived through the night, however, but we were all glad to
make an early start, so before daylight we were on the road. The old
sergeant agreed with Faye in thinking that we were in a trap at the
camp, and should move on early. We did not stop at the Redoubt, but I
saw as we passed that the red curtains were still at the little
window.
It seems that we are not much more safe in this place than we were in
camp in an Indian country. The town is dreadful and has the reputation
of being one of the very worst in the West since the railroad has been
built. They say that gamblers and all sorts of "toughs" follow a new
road. After breakfast this morning we started for a walk to give Hal a
little run, but when we got to the office the hotel proprietor told us
that the dog must be led, otherwise he would undoubtedly be stolen
right before our eyes. Faye said: "No one would dare do such a thing;
I would have him arrested." But the man said there was no one here who
would make the arrest, as there certainly would be two or more
revolvers to argue with first, and in any case the dog would be lost
to us, for if the thief saw that he could not hold him the dog would
undoubtedly be shot. Just imagine such a thing! So Hal was led by his
chain, but he looked so abused and miserable, and I was so frightened
and nervous, our outing was short, and here we are shut up in our
little room.
We can see the car track from the window, and I wonder how it will
seem to go over in a car, the country that we came across in wagons
only one year ago. From Granada we will go to the post in an
ambulance, a distance of forty or more miles. But a ride of fifty
miles over these plains has no terrors for me now. The horses,
furniture, and other things went on in a box car this morning. It is
very annoying to be detained here so long, and I am a little worried
about that girl. The telegram says she was too sick to start
yesterday.
FORT LYON, COLORADO TERRITORY,
June, 1873.
IT has been impossible for me to write before, for I have been more
than busy, both day and night, ever since we got here. The servant for
whom we waited at Dodge City, and who I had hoped would be a great
assistance to me in getting settled, came to us very ill - almost too
ill to be brought over from Granada. But we could not leave her there
with no one to take care of her, and of course I could not remain with
her, so there was nothing else to be done - we had to bring her along.
We had accepted Mrs. Wilder's invitation to stay with them a few days
until we could get settled a little, but all that was changed when we
got here, for we were obliged to come directly to our own house,
unpack camp bedding and the mess chest, and do the best we could for
ourselves and the sick girl.
The post surgeon told us as soon as he had examined the girl that she
had tuberculosis in almost its last stage, and that she was threatened
with double pneumonia! So you can imagine what I have been through in
the way of nursing, for there was no one in the garrison who would
come to assist me. The most unpleasant part of it all is, the girl is
most ungrateful for all that is being done for her, and finds fault
with many things. She has admitted to the doctor that she came to us
for her health; that as there are only two in the family, she thought
there would be so little for her to do she could ride horseback and be
out of doors most of the time! What a nice arrangement it would have
been - this fine lady sitting out on our lawn or riding one of our
horses, and I in the kitchen preparing the dinner, and then at the end
of the month humbly begging her to accept a little check for thirty
dollars!
