CHAPTER XIV.

We were always delighted to welcome back the troops from their Indian reconnoitering, life was so dull without them. During their absence the garrison would consist perhaps of only one company of infantry, with its captain and lieutenant; and if at headquarters a quartermaster and an adjutant, with of course a doctor, who was our mainstay, and to whom we rushed if only a finger ached. That summer even the band was in the field, so we had no music to cheer us. All was, however, made up for on their return in November, when we inaugurated a series of hops that were delightful.

The quarters at Fort Union had an unusually wide hall which was superb for dancing, and three rooms on each side. We had only to notify the quartermaster that a hop was to be given, when our barren hallway would immediately be transferred into a beautiful ballroom, with canvas stretched tightly over the floor, flags decorating the sides, and ceiling so charmingly draped as to make us feel doubly patriotic.

Many ladies greatly dislike Fort Union. It has always been noted for severe dust-storms. Situated on a barren plain, the nearest mountains, and those not very high, three miles distant, it has the most exposed position of any military fort in New Mexico.

The soil is composed of the finest and, seemingly, lightest brown sand, which when the wind blows banks itself to a prodigious height against any convenient object. The most exposed place was between two sets of quarters, which were some distance apart. The wind would blow from a certain direction one day, and completely bank the side of one house; the next it would shift, when the sand would be found lying against the other.

The hope of having any trees, or even a grassy parade ground, had been abandoned long before our residence there; for either the grass-seed would be scattered by the wind, or the grass actually uprooted and blown away after it had grown.

In 1886, when I again visited Fort Union, it seemed indeed a cheerless place on account of the lack of verdure. The cause is simply want of shelter; for with the ample water-works which have been built since we lived there, much could be done if it were in a less exposed position.

Those sand-banks were famous playgrounds for the children. One little girl, whose mother was constantly upbraiding her for lack of neatness, contrasting her with our little daughter who was almost painfully tidy, determining to be avenged, coaxed my child near a large sand-pile and threw her down on it, saying, as she again and again poured the dirt over her:

“There, now! I am glad to see you as dirty as I am!”

Every eye is said to form its own beauty. Mine was disposed to see much in Fort Union, for I had a home there.

When my husband returned from his long scout we rode horseback daily. Our objective point was always the mountains, where trees and green grass were to be found in abundance. One day when in the Turkey mountains, about three miles from home, we saw two very ugly-visaged men approaching. Some instinct, or kind Providence, warned Mr. Boyd to keep a watchful eye on them, so he deliberately turned in the saddle, and placing one hand on a pistol to show that he was armed, watched them out of sight. One of the men, who turned back and looked at us, also rested a hand on his hip where the pistol is carried. Observing that we were intently watching their movements, they rode on, leaving us unmolested.

On our return we were greeted with the tale of a horrible murder that had been committed on the very outskirts of the post. A soldier messenger, who for ten years had carried the mail between Fort Union and the arsenal, a mile distant, had been shot within fifteen hundred yards of the garrison, and fallen lifeless by the roadside. His horse, instead of being captured by the murderers as they had hoped, galloped wildly toward the arsenal, and thus raised an alarm. The murderers were actually in sight when the poor man’s body was found, still warm, but with life extinct.

A pursuing party was organized without loss of time, and on that open, level plain the wretches were almost immediately captured and placed in the guard-house. Mr. Boyd at once visited them, and found, as he expected, that they were the same men whom we had met in the mountains only a few hours previously. They would not, of course, reply to his query why they did not kill us for the sake of the fine horses we rode. He felt certain the murderers would be dealt with as summarily, and told them so, as had been the poor messenger whom they so foully murdered, and whose family was then suffering the most poignant sorrow.

Late that evening the civil authorities demanded the prisoners. Their only safety lay in the commanding officer refusing the request; but claiming that he had no authority for so doing, they were delivered to the sheriff, though begging and pleading to be permitted to remain in the guard-house. The men dreaded lynch law, but saw no mercy in the faces of their jailers.

After proceeding a short distance from the garrison, their escort increased in numbers until soon an immense crowd surrounded them. Not a sound was heard until the very verge of the military reservation had been reached, yet a more resolute and relentless body of men never marched together.

The very moment the last foot of military ground had been passed the sheriff was overpowered, evidently with no very great reluctance; and the crowd, producing coils of rope, quickly proceeded to hang the prisoners to telegraph-poles, where their bodies dangled for days, a warning to all horse-thieves and murderers.

For a time my rides were spoiled; but soon I grew brave again, though we were always thereafter careful to be thoroughly well armed on leaving home.

I might multiply accounts of our experiences at various garrisons, but it would take too long. In a monotonous life days slip away almost unconsciously, and one is surprised to find how quickly time has flown. Looking back, it seems incredibly short, because there were no important events to mark its progress.

We were so happily situated that I hoped to remain at Fort Union, but as usual springtime saw us on the wing. It was undoubtedly a high compliment to my husband that he should always have been chosen as an administrative officer. It not only proved Mr. Boyd’s ability, but was a testimony to his honesty, and thus a complete refutation of the charges made against him at West Point. It was also a special honor to be singled out from among so many men by the general in command at distant headquarters; but an inconvenience, particularly when we were at a very desirable post or station, to be ordered to a most uncomfortable one. Fort Union seemed far enough from the railroad, especially as our year East had made us anxious to be as near civilization as possible.

We were looking forward to a long stay at our pleasant post, when an unexpected order came for Mr. Boyd to proceed immediately to Fort Bayard, and build the officers’ quarters needed there. He kept the news from me during the day of its arrival, because I was deeply engrossed in preparations for a hop to be given at our house that evening, and he did not wish to spoil my pleasure.

The entire day had been spent in decorating the hall and preparing supper. Unfortunately the first guest who arrived effectually dampened my spirits by sympathetically exclaiming:

“Isn’t it too bad you have to leave here?”

I was too unhappy to enjoy a single moment of the festivities which followed; but the arrival of the entire garrison, who danced and otherwise greatly enjoyed themselves, left in my mind a picture of pleasant army gayety surpassed by none.

As usual I packed our household belongings with a heavy heart. That move was decidedly for the worse; and even if the journey, with its attendant fatigue and expense, had not been dreaded, I would have disliked going to a place so much farther from the railroad, and where so little could be expected in the way of comfort.

Fort Bayard, six hundred miles south-west of Fort Union, and a few miles distant from Arizona, was considered a most undesirable locality, both on account of its remoteness, and because no houses had then been built for the officers’ use. It required eighteen days to reach our destination by ambulance, traveling about thirty-five miles each day.

After leaving Fort Union we went directly to Santa Fé, and saw that quaint old Mexican town, then across to Albuquerque, down by the borders of the Rio Grande to Fort Selden, and from there by ascending grades to Fort Bayard, which was in the more mountainous region.

The journey was like all others in which ambulances were used as conveyances—tiresome and monotonous in the extreme, but in my case always either modified or intensified by the gladness or reluctance experienced in regard to our destination. In that case I was heartily sorry for the move. We had been only nine months at Fort Union; my baby was at a troublesome age and needed constant care, and for the first time I was without a nurse of any sort. Besides, it was mid-winter, and unusual care must be exercised to keep the children warm when camping out, which we were compelled to do a part of the time. The season was, however, too cold to permit of that when it could be avoided, so we occupied Mexican houses almost every night.

The houses were very warm and comfortable, but oddly arranged according to American ideas. In place of windows there were merely openings for air, tightly closed or covered by solid wooden shutters at night. Several beds were ranged about the walls of each long, oddly shaped room, which except for a primitive wash-stand contained no other furniture. There was, however, always an open fireplace and a cheerful blaze of mesquite roots, which emitted much heat, and a curious odor that one never forgets.

The food was always enjoyed, for after long, open-air rides no one is ever very fastidious. Mexican cooking is not usually relished by those unaccustomed to it, because always highly flavored with garlic, much soaked in grease, and almost everything deluged with red pepper, without a lavish use of which no Mexican can prepare a single dish.

The most primitive mode of grinding corn—by hand between two stones—was then still in vogue; and the tortillas made from meal thus obtained, simply mixed with water and baked, were not only very sweet, but strange to say also light, probably because of the manipulation by skilled hands. They reminded me of the delicious beaten biscuits prepared in the South, which are never fit to be eaten anywhere else.

The Rio Grande again became our constant companion, and we drove for days within sight of its banks. How I envied the Mexicans who were able to spend their lives on its sunny shores. Volumes could be written about those peculiar people, with their almost deathlike calm of manner, seldom, under any circumstances, varied; though sometimes the fact is betrayed that volcanic fires slumber beneath, to be fully roused and find vent only when their deepest emotions are stirred.

When living among them one feels the necessity of absorbing some of their traits, which are indeed needed in a country where progress is unknown, and where the customs of centuries past still remain, not as traditions but as facts. They were always kind and gentle, and such devoted admirers of our fairer race as to make most admirable nurses for the children, except for their over indulgence.

The towns of Mesilla and Las Cruçes are as characteristic in their way as any of old Spain, and quite as interesting. We passed through both _en route_ to Bayard, and my pen would fain linger over their many peculiarities. Several days elapsed after leaving the Rio Grande before our arrival at Fort Bayard in New Mexico, where we prepared to begin afresh the old story of life in a new garrison. Baby had climbed over me until I was glad to rest on terra firma again.