By the light of the blazing mesquite wood, we now divided what
provisions we had, into two portions: one for supper, and one for
breakfast. A very light meal we had that evening, and I arose
from the mess-table unsatisfied and hungry.
Jack and I sat down by the camp-fire, musing over the hard times
we were having, when suddenly I heard a terrified cry from my
little son. We rushed to the tent, lighted a candle, and oh!
horror upon horrors! his head and face were covered with large
black ants; he was wailing helplessly, and beating the air with
his tiny arms.
"My God!" cried Jack, "we're camped over an ant-hill!"
I seized the child, and brushing off the ants as I fled, brought
him out to the fire, where by its light I succeeded in getting
rid of them all. But the horror of it! Can any mother brought up
in God's country with kind nurses and loved ones to minister to
her child, for a moment imagine how I felt when I saw those
hideous, three-bodied, long-legged black ants crawling over my
baby's face? After a lapse of years, I cannot recall that moment
without a shudder.
The soldiers at last found a place which seemed to be free from
ant-hills, and our tent was again pitched, but only to find that
the venomous things swarmed over us as soon as we lay down to
rest.
And so, after the fashion of the Missouri emigrant, we climbed
into the ambulance and lay down upon our blankets in the bottom
of it, and tried to believe we were comfortable.
My long, hard journey of the preceding autumn, covering a period
of two months; my trying experiences during the winter at Camp
Apache; the sudden break-up and the packing; the lack of
assistance from a nurse; the terrors of the journey; the
sympathy for my child, who suffered from many ailments and
principally from lack of nourishment, added to the profound
fatigue I felt, had reduced my strength to a minimum. I wonder
that I lived, but something sustained me, and when we reached
Camp Verde the next day, and drew up before Lieutenant
O'Connell's quarters, and saw Mrs. O'Connell's kind face beaming
to welcome us, I felt that here was relief at last.
The tall Alsatian handed the pappoose cradle to Mrs. O'Connell.
"Gracious goodness! what is this?" cried the bewildered woman;
"surely it cannot be your baby! You haven't turned entirely
Indian, have you, amongst those wild Apaches?"
I felt sorry I had not taken him out of the basket before we
arrived. I did not realize the impression it would make at Camp
Verde. After all, they did not know anything about our life at
Apache, or our rough travels to get back from there. Here were
lace-curtained windows, well-dressed women, smart uniforms, and,
in fact, civilization, compared with what we had left.
The women of the post gathered around the broad piazza, to see
the wonder. But when they saw the poor little wan face, the blue
eyes which looked sadly out at them from this rude cradle, the
linen bandages covering the back of the head, they did not laugh
any more, but took him and ministered to him, as only kind women
can minister to a sick baby.
There was not much rest, however, for we had to sort and
rearrange our things, and dress ourselves properly. (Oh! the
luxury of a room and a tub, after that journey!) Jack put on his
best uniform, and there was no end of visiting, in spite of the
heat, which was considerable even at that early date in May. The
day there would have been pleasant enough but for my wretched
condition.
The next morning we set out for Fort Whipple, making a long day's
march, and arriving late in the evening. The wife of the
Quartermaster, a total stranger to me, received us, and before we
had time to exchange the usual social platitudes, she gave one
look at the baby, and put an end to any such attempts. "You have
a sick child; give him to me;" then I told her some things, and
she said: "I wonder he is alive." Then she took him under her
charge and declared we should not leave her house until he was
well again. She understood all about nursing, and day by day,
under her good care, and Doctor Henry Lippincott's skilful
treatment, I saw my baby brought back to life again. Can I ever
forget Mrs. Aldrich's blessed kindness?
Up to then, I had taken no interest in Camp MacDowell, where was
stationed the company into which my husband was promoted. I knew
it was somewhere in the southern part of the Territory, and
isolated. The present was enough. I was meeting my old Fort
Russell friends, and under Doctor Lippincott's good care I was
getting back a measure of strength. Camp MacDowell was not yet a
reality to me.
We met again Colonel Wilkins and Mrs. Wilkins and Carrie, and
Mrs. Wilkins thanked me for bringing her daughter alive out of
those wilds. Poor girl; 'twas but a few months when we heard of
her death, at the birth of her second child. I have always
thought her death was caused by the long hard journey from Apache
to Whipple, for Nature never intended women to go through what we
went through, on that memorable journey by Stoneman's Lake.
There I met again Captain Porter, and I asked him if he had
progressed any in his courtship, and he, being very much
embarrassed, said he did not know, but if patient waiting was of
any avail, he believed he might win his bride.
