Every afternoon, the
military band played in the Plaza, where everybody went and sat
on benches in the shade of the old trees, or, if cool, in the
delightful sunshine. The pretty and well-dressed senoritas cast
shy glances at the young officers of the Tenth; but, alas! the
handsome and attractive Lieutenants Van Vliet and Seyburn, and
the more sedate Lieutenant Plummer, could not return these
bewitching glances, as they were all settled in life.
The two former officers had married in Detroit, and both Mrs. Van
Vliet and Mrs. Seyburn did honor to the beautiful city of
Michigan, for they were most agreeable and clever women, and
presided over their army homes with distinguished grace and
hospitality.
The Americans who lived there were all professional people;
mostly lawyers, and a few bankers. I could not understand why so
many Eastern lawyers lived there. I afterwards learned that the
old Spanish land grants had given rise to illimitable and
never-ending litigation.
Every morning we rode across country. There were no fences, but
the wide irrigation ditches gave us a plenty of excitement, and
the riding was glorious. I had no occasion yet to realize that we
had left the line of the army.
A camping trip to the head-waters of the Pecos, where we caught
speckled trout in great abundance in the foaming riffles and
shallow pools of this rushing mountain stream, remaining in camp
a week under the spreading boughs of the mighty pines, added to
the variety and delights of our life there.
