In fact, I did not think much about it; I simply got
ready and went, as soldiers do.
I heard them say that we were not to cross the Mogollon range,
but were to go to the north of it, ford the Colorado Chiquito at
Sunset Crossing, and so on to Camp Verde and Whipple Barracks by
the Stoneman's Lake road. It sounded poetic and pretty. Colorado
Chiquito, Sunset Crossing, and Stoneman's Lake road! I thought to
myself, they were prettier than any of the names I had heard in
Arizona.
CHAPTER XIV
A MEMORABLE JOURNEY
How broken plunged the steep descent! How barren! Desolate and
rent By earthquake shock, the land lay dead, Like some proud
king in old-time slain. An ugly skeleton, it gleamed In burning
sands. The fiery rain Of fierce volcanoes here had sown Its
ashes. Burnt and black and seamed With thunder-strokes and strewn
With cinders. Yea, so overthrown, That wilder men than we had
said, On seeing this, with gathered breath, "We come on the
confines of death!" - JOAQUIN MILLER.
Six good cavalrymen galloped along by our side, on the morning of
April 24th, 1875, as with two ambulances, two army wagons, and a
Mexican guide, we drove out of Camp Apache at a brisk trot.
The drivers were all armed, and spare rifles hung inside the
ambulances. I wore a small derringer, with a narrow belt filled
with cartridges. An incongruous sight, methinks now, it must have
been. A young mother, pale and thin, a child of scarce three
months in her arms, and a pistol belt around her waist!
I scarcely looked back at Camp Apache. We had a long day's march
before us, and we looked ahead. Towards night we made camp at
Cooley's ranch, and slept inside, on the floor. Cooley was
interpreter and scout, and although he was a white man, he had
married a young Indian girl, the daughter of one of the chiefs
and was known as a squaw man. There seemed to be two Indian girls
at his ranch; they were both tidy and good-looking, and they
prepared us a most appetizing supper.
The ranch had spaces for windows, covered with thin unbleached
muslin (or manta, as it is always called out there), glass
windows being then too great a luxury in that remote place.
There were some partitions inside the ranch, but no doors; and,
of course, no floors except adobe. Several half-breed children,
nearly naked, stood and gazed at us as we prepared for rest. This
was interesting and picturesque from many standpoints perhaps,
but it did not tend to make me sleepy. I lay gazing into the fire
which was smouldering in the corner, and finally I said, in a
whisper, "Jack, which girl do you think is Cooley's wife?"
"I don't know," answered this cross and tired man; and then
added, "both of 'em, I guess."
Now this was too awful, but I knew he did not intend for me to
ask any more questions.
