A siesta was out of the question, as the
staterooms were insufferable; and so we dragged out the weary
days.
At sundown the boat put her nose up to the bank and tied up for
the night. The soldiers left the barges and went into camp on
shore, to cook their suppers and to sleep. The banks of the river
offered no very attractive spot upon which to make a camp; they
were low, flat, and covered with underbrush and arrow-weed, which
grew thick to the water's edge. I always found it interesting to
watch the barge unload the men at sundown.
At twilight some of the soldiers came on board and laid our
mattresses side by side on the after deck. Pajamas and loose
gowns were soon en evidence, but nothing mattered, as they were
no electric lights to disturb us with their glare. Rank also
mattered not; Lieutenant-Colonel Wilkins and his wife lay down to
rest, with the captains and lieutenants and their wives, wherever
their respective strikers had placed their mattresses (for this
was the good old time when the soldiers were allowed to wait upon
officers 'families).
Under these circumstances, much sleep was not to be thought of;
the sultry heat by the river bank, and the pungent smell of the
arrow-weed which lined the shores thickly, contributed more to
stimulate than to soothe the weary nerves.
