We turned our faces towards the Mojave desert, and I wondered,
what next?
The Post Surgeon kindly took care of us for two days and nights,
and we slept upon the broad piazzas of his quarters.
We heard no more the crackling and fizzing of the
stern-wheeler's high-pressure engines at daylight, and our eyes,
tired with gazing at the red whirlpools of the river, found
relief in looking out upon the grey-white flat expanse which
surrounded Fort Mojave, and merged itself into the desert
beyond.
CHAPTER VII
THE MOJAVE DESERT
Thou white and dried-up sea! so old! So strewn with wealth, so
sown with gold! Yes, thou art old and hoary white With time and
ruin of all things, And on thy lonesome borders Night Sits
brooding o'er with drooping wings. - JOAQUIN MILLER.
The country had grown steadily more unfriendly ever since leaving
Fort Yuma, and the surroundings of Camp Mojave were dreary
enough.
But we took time to sort out our belongings, and the officers
arranged for transportation across the Territory. Some had
bought, in San Francisco, comfortable travelling-carriages for
their families. They were old campaigners; they knew a thing or
two about Arizona; we lieutenants did not know, we had never
heard much about this part of our country.
