I well remember how the sun shone that day, and, as we
strolled up from the boat with them, Frau Haase stopped, looked
at the blue sky, the lovely clouds, the green slopes of the
Island and said: "Mein Gott! Frau Summerhayes, was ist das fur
ein Paradies! Warum haben Sie uns nicht gesagt, Sie wohnten im
Paradies!"
So, with music and German speech, and strolls to the North and to
the South Batteries, that wonderful and never to-be-forgotten day
with the great Friedrich Haase came to an end.
The months flew by, and the second winter found us still there;
we heard rumors of Indian troubles in Arizona, and at last the
orders came. The officers packed away their evening clothes in
camphor and had their campaign clothes put out to air, and got
their mess-chests in order, and the post was alive with
preparations for the field. All the families were to stay behind.
The most famous Indian renegade was to be hunted down, and
serious fighting was looked for.
At last all was ready, and the day was fixed for the departure of
the troops.
The winter rains had set in, and the skies were grey, as the
command marched down to the boat.
The officers and soldiers were in their campaign clothes; the
latter had their blanket-rolls and haversacks slung over their
shoulders, and their tin cups, which hung from the haversacks,
rattled and jingled as they marched down in even columns of four,
over the wet and grassy slopes of the parade ground, where so
short a time before all had been glitter and sunshine.
