CHAPTER XIII.

I doubt if any but those who have lived among the prairies or mountains of the far West can realize how keenly is felt the loss of that endless environment which becomes a part of life itself, and which is missed when deprived of, especially at first, almost like one’s daily bread.

From the city I went to my husband’s home in New York State, on a spur of the Catskill Mountains, where I seemed to breathe more freely, and was enchanted during those long summer months by the exquisite green of grass, trees, and landscape—in a word, by every thing that refreshed the eye after such a long period of gray hues, and which certainly my beloved West lacked.

I was enthusiastic over the fresh verdure of our beautiful mountain home, just as I had been over the gray loveliness of the West. It was, no doubt, the marked contrast which gladdened my eyes. Not a moment was spent in-doors if it could be avoided; and when compelled to do so, I placed myself where a perpetual feast to the eyes was in full view.

One could dwell perpetually amid recollections of the past; so I will hasten over that quiet, restful summer to the succeeding fall, when my husband arrived on his first leave of absence. Needless to say the young soldier was greeted by his family with the welcome befitting one, who, having spent three years in distant service, returned to his home with unalloyed pleasure, and reviewed with renewed delight the early surroundings and memories of his youth.

During the month following Mr. Boyd’s arrival our first boy was born, and no prince could ever have been received with more sincere delight. Parents and grandparents were unanimous in considering him wonderful, and indeed he was a splendid baby! My husband celebrated his advent as we would have done on the frontier, with much rejoicing; but the Puritan grandparents seriously objected to conviviality of any kind, and seized the occasion to obtain their son’s promise to abstain in future from intoxicating liquors of every description. To gratify his dear father Mr. Boyd agreed, although there was no necessity for such a pledge, as he had always been most temperate. Our son was ten years of age before Captain Boyd again tasted liquor, and then it was by the doctor’s express order.

When our baby boy was three months old his father began to think the country a cold place for us, and to debate the desirability of a return to New York, especially as he felt we were entitled, after our long sojourn on the frontier, to some of the pleasures of Eastern life. One entire morning was spent in discussing the matter. The conclusion arrived at was, that even if we remained with relatives the amount of my husband’s pay would in no wise suffice for the ordinary expenses of life in New York. In order to have any leisure I should require a nurse for our two little children, and the half-pay received was only sixty-five dollars a month.

In relating these experiences of army life, I wish it distinctly understood that I am not exaggerating—simply stating facts. A cavalry officer was deprived of almost every opportunity of visiting home and relatives in the East, and when permitted to do so on leave was compelled to plunge in debt, which involved him for years afterward in difficulties: so, great as was the pleasure, and most innocent and natural, we considered it too dearly bought ever to be repeated, and therefore did not again come East until compelled to do so on account of our children’s education.

My husband had journeyed from Fort Stanton to New York at frightful expense, traveling by stage to Denver, which, as my previous experience has shown, was the most costly mode of transit. An officer has not only to make all trips when on leave at his own expense, but in those days the pay was reduced to half its full amount; and as a lieutenant was then allowed only one hundred and thirty dollars, Mr. Boyd received but sixty-five dollars a month. Such reduction seems to me most unjust, for surely no one can be expected to spend a lifetime away from all early associations, or pay so dearly for the natural desire to occasionally see parents and friends.

We were indeed happy with the pleasure of again visiting our relatives; but when the long, long return journey from New York to New Mexico had to be undertaken, and we found that with the utmost economy it would cost seven hundred dollars, which, with the limited supply of household necessaries absolutely required, and the expenses of Mr. Boyd’s journey East added, aggregated upwards of thirteen hundred dollars, it was anything but a pleasant outlook for the future. We were in debt to that amount, and must provide for its payment.

Can any one wonder either at our dismay, or the resolve never again to think of leave of absence? For economy we had actually buried ourselves in the mountains during the entire winter; and although that was no great hardship, yet it would have been very pleasant to have enjoyed New York during the season, especially as I never expected to come East again.

We realized the stern fact that with an income of only sixty-five dollars a month, four people should be thankful to have the bare necessaries of life, without expecting luxuries; but it did seem rather hard to return without seeing more of the city than a fleeting glimpse obtained in passing, and—because we were poor.

While in New York one of my cousins found a servant willing to return West with us, which seemed desirable, as a nurse would be needed on that long journey, and the amount of her traveling expenses would be saved in the wages to be paid—those current in New York instead of the double rate demanded on the frontier.

We congratulated ourselves on the servant’s appearance, which was so far from pleasing it seemed safe to take her. Had it been otherwise she would, we were sure, soon desert us for matrimony. The girl was almost a grenadier in looks and manners; and although not absolutely hideous, was so far from pleasing that we were confident of retaining her services, so made a contract for one year.

Our Western journey was uneventful in comparison with others that had preceded it. It seemed a slight undertaking to travel with our two little children, who were so good and healthy, and I had the assistance both of my husband and the nurse. Besides, the joy experienced at being fairly _en route_ for our own home made me feel like a caged bird let loose.

After four days and nights of travel from the East into the West, we reached Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory, where the children, nurse, and I were to remain with my brother, while Mr. Boyd went to New Mexico by stage, and returned with an ambulance for our long journey.

My heart swells when I think of those perfect days! It was in the month of May, and we either camped out every night, or slept in some ranch. Each moment was fraught with pleasure. Every whiff of mountain air was inhaled with delight, for, like a Mohammedan, my face was turned toward Mecca. I so rejoiced that our nurse, who was undergoing the same disagreeable sensations I had experienced at the outset of my army life in the strange surroundings, was so overpowered she dared not express her dissatisfaction.

On arriving at Trinidad, a halt was made, for I had forgotten to check our trunks from Denver to Kit Carson, so they did not follow. We awaited them there for a while, but finally decided to go on. When the trunks eventually reached us, we discovered that they had been left standing somewhere in the rain until their contents were saturated with water and had mildewed.

I felt badly enough over my own trunk; but the nurse wept, “refusing to be comforted,” for all her finery was ruined. My own regrets were silenced in listening to her lamentations, especially as I was entirely to blame.

We did not return to Fort Stanton, Mr. Boyd’s company having been ordered to Fort Union; so the journey, which I regarded in the light of a picnic, from the railroad to our home, required only twelve days. It was delightful in every respect, or would have been but for the sour face of our nurse, “who mourned, and mourned, and mourned.”

When we reached Fort Union, and I asked if it would not be a pleasant home for us, she looked out on the wide and desolate plain that faced the fort, and with a weary sigh, said she “preferred New York.”

Having known the pangs of homesickness, I sympathized with her deeply; but she kept up so continuously her wail of despair over the discomforts of our life generally, and it became so tiresome, that when, five months afterward, she married a soldier, I was rather glad than otherwise, and returned with a sense of relief to the faithful men for service.

We had soon discovered the fallacy of our belief that her plainness would prevent the possibility of a lover. Women were so scarce, and men so plenty, that no matter how old or ugly, a woman was not neglected, and our unprepossessing nurse had scores of suitors for her hand. She had not been in the fort three days before the man who laid our carpets proposed to her. It required but little time in which to become aware of her own value, and on learning that he was intemperate she quickly discarded him.

The one whom she finally married was brave in every sense of the word. Trusting to the old adage, “Faint heart ne’er won fair ladie,” that man engaged a carriage at Las Vegas for the wedding-trip before ever having seen her. He was a soldier belonging at Fort Union, who had been away on distant service for months, and, hearing that we had a girl from the East with us, made the necessary preparations for their marriage while _en route_ to the post. His pluck must have pleased her, for three days after his return she accompanied him to Las Vegas, where they were united for life.

She had made my life harder in every way, and taught us the folly of taking a servant accustomed to Eastern civilization into the Western wilds. Not only had she scorned all our belongings and surroundings, but absolutely wearied me with incessant complaints over the absence of modern conveniences, which was absurd; for the climate was so exquisite, and the houses so compact, there was really no necessity for such fretfulness. We had clean, sweet, fresh quarters, which to me seemed perfect.

So greatly, however, had the girl deplored the situation, that I wondered she thought to better her condition by marrying a soldier, who can often give his wife no shelter whatever; in fact, unless permitted to marry by the consent of his officers, she is not allowed to live in the garrison.

That was a hard summer in spite of my joy at our return. Mr. Boyd had been ordered to join his troop in the field immediately after our arrival. I had a dear little house, and with new carpets and curtains, and the absolute freshness of all, would have been happy enough but for the load of debt that was constantly worrying me, and the discontent of our servant, which made her incapable to such a degree that I had to work so hard the flesh and strength gained by my pleasant Eastern visit greatly decreased. Before the summer was over I had lost twenty-five pounds.

Our dear captain had taken unto himself a bride, and in accordance with the usual army experience had been ordered away immediately on reaching the post, where he had hoped to enjoy his wife’s society at least for a while. But the fortunes of war are ever the same, and our garrison was denuded of cavalry, which pursued Indians all summer. The officers always had so many comical stories to tell on their return, that even the bride failed to realize her husband’s danger, and joined in the general laugh over those recitals.

One night the Indians actually invaded camp, and the officers were obliged to fight in their night clothes, having no time even to slip on shoes, but rushed immediately into the inclosure, that when camping was always formed by the wagons, and within which the animals were led. Having succeeded in driving off the Indians they laughed immoderately at each other, and considered the whole affair a great joke. The colonel was unusually tall, the quartermaster short and very stout, and each must have presented a comical appearance, fighting for dear life in such attire.

When absent on those expeditions the troop usually encamped on the banks of some stream. On one occasion the river by which they had camped rose—agreeably to the frequent custom of Western rivers—and carried away everything on its banks. When it fell their huge blacksmith’s forge was found imbedded in the opposite shore, an eighth of a mile lower down.

The rainy season in those south-western countries is mostly confined to a few months, either in early spring or midsummer; and as no warning precedes its coming, sad accidents not infrequently occur. Sometimes in the course of a few hours a tiny little stream grows into an angry, surging torrent, so great is the downpour even in that short time. One dear woman, an officer’s wife, who was camped with her husband on the banks of a river apparently in full security, lost her life from that cause.

A storm arose so suddenly, that, seeing their camp would soon be under water, she took shelter in an ambulance, to be driven across the stream to higher ground; but the treacherous current had grown so swift and strong that she and their child, together with the driver and mules, were swept away before the eyes of her husband, who stood agonized and helpless on the shore.