Vanished Arizona | Page 9

had so
recently left. We often saw women in cotton wrappers, high-heeled
slippers, and sun-bonnets, walking in the main streets. Cows, pigs, and
saloons seemed to be a feature of the place.
In about six weeks, the affairs of the Sioux were settled, and the troops
returned to the post. The weather began to be uncomfortably hot in
those low wooden houses. I missed the comforts of home and the fresh
sea air of the coast, but I tried to make the best of it.
Our sleeping-room was very small, and its one window looked out over
the boundless prairie at the back of the post. On account of the great
heat, we were obliged to have this window wide open at night. I heard
the cries and wails of various animals, but Jack said that was
nothing--they always heard them.
Once, at midnight, the wails seemed to be nearer, and I was terrified;

but he told me 'twas only the half-wild cats and coyotes which prowled
around the post. I asked him if they ever came in. "Gracious, no!" he
said; "they are too wild."
I calmed myself for sleep--when like lightning, one of the huge
creatures gave a flying leap in at our window, across the bed, and
through into the living-room.
"Jerusalem!" cried the lieutenant, and flew after her, snatching his
sword, which stood in the corner, and poking vigorously under the
divan.
I rolled myself under the bed-covers, in the most abject terror lest she
might come back the same way; and, true enough, she did, with a most
piercing cry. I never had much rest after that occurrence, as we had no
protection against these wild-cats.
The regiment, however, in June was ordered to Arizona, that dreaded
and then unknown land, and the uncertain future was before me. I saw
the other women packing china and their various belongings. I seemed
to be helpless. Jack was busy with things outside. He had three large
army chests, which were brought in and placed before me. "Now," he
said, "all our things must go into those chests"--and I supposed they
must.
I was pitifully ignorant of the details of moving, and I stood
despairingly gazing into the depths of those boxes, when the jolly and
stout wife of Major von Hermann passed my window. She glanced in,
comprehended the situation, and entered, saying, "You do not
understand how to pack? Let me help you: give me a cushion to kneel
upon--now bring everything that is to be packed, and I can soon show
you how to do it." With her kind assistance the chests were packed, and
I found that we had a great deal of surplus stuff which had to be put
into rough cases, or rolled into packages and covered with burlap. Jack
fumed when he saw it, and declared we could not take it all, as it
exceeded our allowance of weight. I declared we must take it, or we
could not exist.

With some concessions on both sides we were finally packed up, and
left Fort Russell about the middle of June, with the first detachment,
consisting of head-quarters and band, for San Francisco, over the Union
Pacific Railroad.
For it must be remembered, that in 1874 there were no railroads in
Arizona, and all troops which were sent to that distant territory either
marched over-land through New Mexico, or were transported by
steamer from San Francisco down the coast, and up the Gulf of
California to Fort Yuma, from which point they marched up the valley
of the Gila to the southern posts, or continued up the Colorado River by
steamer, to other points of disembarkation, whence they marched to the
posts in the interior, or the northern part of the territory.
Much to my delight, we were allowed to remain over in San Francisco,
and go down with the second detachment. We made the most of the
time, which was about a fortnight, and on the sixth of August we
embarked with six companies of soldiers, Lieutenant Colonel Wilkins
in command, on the old steamship "Newbern," Captain Metzger, for
Arizona.

CHAPTER IV
DOWN THE PACIFIC COAST
Now the "Newbern" was famous for being a good roller, and she lived
up to her reputation. For seven days I saw only the inside of our
stateroom. At the end of that time we arrived off Cape St. Lucas (the
extreme southern point of Lower California), and I went on deck.
We anchored and took cattle aboard. I watched the natives tow them off,
the cattle swimming behind their small boats, and then saw the poor
beasts hoisted up by their horns to the deck of our ship.
I thought it most dreadfully cruel, but was informed that it had been
done from time immemorial,