Only two days were left in which to reach our destination. The
remainder of the road was level, and no further danger from Indians
need be apprehended. Our next encampment was at Willow Grove, a
lovely wooded spot where some of our own troops were stationed, and
but a short distance from what we supposed was to be our home, at
least for a time.
At last Prescott, then a mining-town, was gained. Everything seemed
delightful. Situated among the hills, surrounded by trees, and with a
most enjoyable climate, never very hot or very cold, but bracing at
all seasons, it would indeed prove a desirable home to wanderers like
ourselves, and I fondly hoped we might remain there.
We were warmly welcomed at the garrison, which was situated half
a mile from town. There were but three houses in the post, and all
occupied. The houses contained only three rooms each, and one of the
officers kindly relinquished his room in my favor. The ladies were
very hospitable in providing me with nourishing food, of which I was
in great need.
Our dismay on learning that Mr. Boyd must leave the next day to join
his company, which had been sent eighty miles distant to a post
called Camp Date Creek, may be imagined. The movement was considered
only temporary, as the troop was permanently stationed at Prescott;
so, supposing that my husband might return almost immediately, it was
decided that I should remain there.
All would have gone well had there been suitable accommodations; but
no sooner had Mr. Boyd left than the inspector-general, accompanied
by several other officers, arrived, and their baggage was placed in
the room I was occupying. There was no alternative but for me to move
into the adjoining room, an old, deserted kitchen, which had for
years past been the receptacle of miscellaneous _débris_.
My bed had to be made on the floor between two windows, whose panes
of glass were either cracked or broken. An old stove, utterly
useless, occupied the hearth. As the nights and mornings were very
cold I tried to build a fire; but the smoke, instead of ascending,
poured into the room in volumes, and compelled me to abandon the task
as hopeless. I suffered far more from the cold there than I had while
on the march, and longed for a camp-fire.
The kitchen was a perfect curiosity shop. Garments of every
imaginable kind, when no longer of use to their owners, had evidently
been left there. An “old clothes man” would have rejoiced at the
wealth of rubbish. I counted twenty pairs of boots and shoes, and
there were quite as many hats, coats, and nether garments. The
corners of that room were to be avoided as one would avoid the
plague. My chair, which had been brought from California, was planted
in the only clean spot—the floor’s immediate center.
I tried to imagine myself camping out, but my surroundings were far
less agreeable than they would have been in that case, and whichever
way my eyes turned, they met unsightly objects. No one seemed to
consider the situation unpleasant, so I simply resigned myself to the
inevitable.
After I had been living in that way for ten days, the post surgeon
came in and said:
“Mrs. Boyd, I have observed your disagreeable plight if no one else
has, and am exceedingly sorry. I am ordered to Camp Date Creek, and
if you would like will escort you.”
No farther words were needed. I was ready to leave immediately; and
when told of the disagreeables that would be encountered simply
laughed, I was so tired of homelessness.
Prescott was in such a healthy location as to be a very desirable
station, while Camp Date Creek was low and malarious. The post
statistics showed that eighty per cent of the men were then suffering
from fever. The extreme heat and numerous supply of vermin were also
enlarged upon; but nothing daunted me, and I went on my way rejoicing.
The journey was indeed very trying. The road was principally a lava
bed, and we were fearfully jolted. I disliked making trouble, and
remember riding for miles, holding on to the basket in which baby was
lying, which had been placed on the bottom of the vehicle at my feet.
To prevent the basket—precious contents and all—from slipping out
under the front seat, I was obliged to cling tightly to it, and at
the same time firmly brace myself in order to keep from being tossed
about.
However, everything must have an end—even such a journey. I was
inexpressibly glad to find a house once more over my head, and to
receive my husband’s hearty welcome.
Army life is uncertain in the extreme, and our detail proved no
exception to the rule. The troop was sent to Camp Date Creek for a
month, but it remained a year, until the regiment left Arizona. The
consolidation of regiments was at that time being effected. The
infantry had been reduced from forty to twenty-five regiments, which
necessitated many moves, and was the occasion for the detention there
of some troops until more infantry arrived.
It was indeed a desolate and undesirable locality. The country was
ugly, flat, and inexpressibly dreary. The section stretching in front
of our camp was called “bad lands” (_mala pice_). The only pretty
spot at all near was a slow, sluggish stream some miles away, where
no one dared remain long for fear of malaria.
Our only associate was the doctor, and subsequently, when a company
of infantry arrived, two officers; but for at least six months of
that year I was the only woman within at least fifty miles. I found,
too, that housekeeping was a burden; for in all the travel from north
to south, and the reverse, through Arizona, every one stopped _en
route_. Before we left I felt competent to keep a hotel if experience
was any education in the art. Even stage passengers had frequently
to be cared for, as in that region it would have been cruel, when
delays occurred, to have permitted them to have gone farther without
food.
As usual, I had the help of a soldier; but unfortunately one who,
when he found that too much was likely to be required of him,
took refuge in intoxication; then the entire burden fell upon me.
Our little Chinese boy proved a treasure. He could wash and iron
capitally, excepting my husband’s shirts and the baby’s clothes, the
ironing of both of which came upon me.
That year of my life was, in spite of many hardships, a very happy
one. I have often since wondered how it could have been so, for
surely no one ever lived more queerly. The houses were built of
mud-brick (adobe), which was not, as is usual, plastered either
inside or out. Being left unfinished they soon began to crumble in
the dry atmosphere, and large holes or openings formed, in which
vermin, especially centipeds, found hiding-places. The latter were
so plentiful that I have frequently counted a dozen or more crawling
in and out of the interstices. Scorpions and rattlesnakes also took
up their abode with us, and one snake of a more harmless nature
used almost daily to thrust his head through a hole in the floor.
Altogether we had plenty of such visitors.
In faithfully recording my experiences, honesty compels me to state
that although I have encountered almost every species of noxious
and deadly vermin, from the ubiquitous rattlesnake to the deadly
vinageroon, my real trials have arisen from the simpler sorts, such
as wasps, gnats, fleas, flies, and mosquitoes, which, everywhere
prolific, are doubly so on the frontier. I think a kind Providence
must have watched over our encounters with deadly reptiles, though
nothing could save us from ordinary pests.
Perhaps the most trying of all my experiences was when we made our
camp after dark. On those occasions we would be almost certain either
to find that our tents had been erected close beside a bed of
cacti, to fall into whenever we moved, or over an ant-heap of such
dimensions that cannot be conceived of by any one in the East. The
busy population of one of those ant-hills was among the millions; and
evidently each inhabitant felt called upon to resent our intrusion,
for soon we would be literally covered with the stinging pests. When
our little ones were the victims, as often happened, we longed to
live in a land where such creatures were unknown.
But to return to a description of our home. The house consisted of
one long room, with a door at either end, and two windows on each
side. The room was sufficiently large to enable us to divide it by
a canvas curtain, and thus have a sitting-room and bedroom. We felt
very happy on account of having a floor other than the ground, though
it consisted only of broad, rough, unplaned planks, which had shrunk
so that the spaces between them were at least two inches in width,
and proved a trap for every little article that fell upon the floor.
The brown, rough adobe walls were very uninviting, and centipeds
were so numerous I never dared place our bed within at least two
feet of them. The adjoining house, which was vacant, I used for a
dining-room. Our kitchen stood as far away in another direction, so
I seemed to daily walk miles in the simple routine of housekeeping
duties.
The country was very desolate, and the dismal cry of the coyotes
at night anything but enlivening. Those animals became so bold as
actually to approach our door, and one night carried off a box of
shoe-blacking. They evidently did not care for that kind of relish,
as it was discovered next day a short distance from the house.
We killed so many snakes that I made a collection of rattles. One
of the tales told about me was that a box of them sent to New York
was labelled “Rattlesnakes’ Rattles! Poison!” Of course that was not
true; but our lives were so monotonous we enjoyed any joke on each
other.
I thought the last would never have been heard of my early
pronunciation of “Fort Mojave,” which it is probably needless to
state was exactly in English accord with its spelling. Probably had
I known the word was Spanish, not understanding the language, my
pronunciation would have been the same.
I was always delighted when ladies passed through the post, and
invariably begged them to remain as long as possible. One lovely
woman, whose husband had been ordered from Southern to Northern
Arizona, only to find on reaching there that his station was to be
but twenty miles from the place he had just left, gladdened me twice
by her presence. When I expressed regret because she was obliged to
traverse the same road again during such extremely warm weather,
her assurance that she did not in the least mind it, surprised and
relieved me.
I found Arizona even worse than Nevada, so far as supplies were
concerned. We could seldom obtain luxuries of any kind, and when
procurable they were exorbitant in price. Eggs cost two dollars and
fifty cents a dozen; butter the same per pound; chickens two dollars
and fifty cents apiece; potatoes, twenty cents per pound; kerosene
oil, five dollars a gallon, and I was told it had been as high as
fourteen dollars. Fortunately we could buy candles at government
rates.
We were often at our wit’s ends to supply food for guests. I had five
bantam chickens, that each laid an egg daily for some time, which
we considered great cause for thankfulness. I actually learned to
concoct dainties without many of the ingredients usually supposed
necessary, and they were declared very good.
Finally, after having been at Camp Date Creek some months, another
lady joined us, at which I rejoiced exceedingly. She proved a very
great acquisition to our army circle.
Our mail was due once a week, but became very uncertain on account of
the Indians. Mr. Boyd was twice awakened late at night by sentries,
who reported the return of one man very badly wounded, and that
the other had been left dead, and the mail scattered all over the
country. Whenever the drums beat over the remains of any young man,
thoughts of his absent friends always came to me. Our miserable
little cemetery, out on that lonely plain, had not one grave whose
quiet occupant was more than twenty-three years of age, and none had
died a natural death.
My husband was the busiest man imaginable. He had not only to command
his company, but was also in charge of all stores and buildings. The
quartermaster’s storehouse was a long distance off, and Mr. Boyd
was there all day long. I used to be in continual fear lest Indians
should attack him. No greater diligence could have been displayed
by any one, and no one could have worked more conscientiously or
faithfully than he did all through life.
We feared to ride over the country on account of the Indians, and
therefore had less amusement and recreation than while in Nevada, yet
contentment shed its blessed rays about us. I was always joyful, and
ceased to wish that the hardships we were enduring might be exchanged
for even attic life if in New York. My regret on learning that we
were to leave for New Mexico was keen, although aware better quarters
were awaiting us. But I had grown to love my Arizona home, if the
walls were only rough adobe ones. In just nine months from the time
of my arrival at Date Creek, and in mid-winter, we left for our new
destination. It was with vexation of spirit that I again took up the
march.