You'll get used to it, and things will settle
themselves. Of course it is troublesome, but you can have shelves
and such things - you'll soon learn," and still smiling, she gave
her ball a neat left-hander.
I concluded that my New England bringing up had been too serious,
and wondered if I had made a dreadful mistake in marrying into
the army, or at least in following my husband to Arizona. I
debated the question with myself from all sides, and decided then
and there that young army wives should stay at home with their
mothers and fathers, and not go into such wild and uncouth
places. I thought my decision irrevocable.
Before the two small deep windows in our room we hung some Turkey
red cotton, Jack built in his spare moments a couch for me, and
gradually our small quarters assumed an appearance of comfort. I
turned my attention a little to social matters. We dined at
Captain Montgomery's (the commanding officer's) house; his wife
was a famous Washington beauty. He had more rank, consequently
more rooms, than we had, and their quarters were very comfortable
and attractive.
There was much that was new and interesting at the post. The
Indians who lived on this reservation were the White Mountain
Apaches, a fierce and cruel tribe, whose depredations and
atrocities had been carried on for years, in and around, and,
indeed, far away from their mountain homes. But this tribe was
now under surveillance of the Government, and guarded by a strong
garrison of cavalry and infantry at Camp Apache. They were
divided into bands, under Chiefs Pedro, Diablo, Patone and
Cibiano; they came into the post twice a week to be counted, and
to receive their rations of beef, sugar, beans, and other
staples, which Uncle Sam's commissary officer issued to them.
In the absence of other amusement, the officers' wives walked
over to witness this rather solemn ceremony. At least, the
serious expression on the faces of the Indians, as they received
their rations, gave an air of solemnity to the proceeding.
Large stakes were driven into the ground; at each stake, sat or
stood the leader of a band; a sort of father to his people; then
the rest of them stretched out in several long lines, young bucks
and old ones, squaws and pappooses, the families together, about
seventeen hundred souls in all. I used to walk up and down
between the lines, with the other women, and the squaws looked at
our clothes and chuckled, and made some of their inarticulate
remarks to each other. The bucks looked admiringly at the white
women, especially at the cavalry beauty, Mrs. Montgomery,
although I thought that Chief Diablo cast a special eye at our
young Mrs. Bailey, of the infantry.
Diablo was a handsome fellow. I was especially impressed by his
extraordinary good looks.
This tribe was quiet at that time, only a few renegades escaping
into the hills on their wild adventures:
