I climbed up on the box and talked with the driver. I liked these
stage-drivers. They were "nervy," fearless men, and kind, too,
and had a great dash and go about them. They often had a quiet
and gentle bearing, but by that time I knew pretty well what sort
of stuff they were made of, and I liked to have them talk to me,
and I liked to look out upon the world through their eyes, and
judge of things from their standpoint.
It was an easy journey, and we passed a comfortable night in the
stage.
Camp MacDermit was a colorless, forbidding sort of a place. Only
one company was stationed there, and my husband was nearly always
scouting in the mountains north of us. The weather was severe,
and the winter there was joyless and lonesome. The extreme cold
and the loneliness affected my spirits, and I suffered from
depression.
I had no woman to talk to, for Mrs. Corliss, who was the only
other officer's wife at the post, was confined to the house by
the most delicate health, and her mind was wholly absorbed by the
care of her young infant. There were no nurses to be had in that
desolate corner of the earth.
One day, a dreadful looking man appeared at the door, a person
such as one never sees except on the outskirts of civilization,
and I wondered what business brought him. He wore a long, black,
greasy frock coat, a tall hat, and had the face of a sneak. He
wanted the Chinaman's poll-tax, he said.
"But," I suggested, "I never heard of collecting taxes in a
Government post; soldiers and officers do not pay taxes."
"That may be," he replied, "but your Chinaman is not a soldier,
and I am going to have his tax before I leave this house."
"So, ho," I thought; "a threat!" and the soldier's blood rose in
me.
I was alone; Jack was miles away up North. Hoo Chack appeared in
the hall; he had evidently heard the man's last remark. "Now," I
said, "this Chinaman is in my employ, and he shall not pay any
tax, until I find out if he be exempt or not."
The evil-looking man approached the Chinaman. Hoo Chack grew a
shade paler. I fancied he had a knife under his white shirt; in
fact, he felt around for it. I said, "Hoo Chack, go away, I will
talk to this man."
I opened the front door. "Come with me" (to the tax-collector);
"we will ask the commanding officer about this matter." My heart
was really in my mouth, but I returned the man's steady and
dogged gaze, and he followed me to Captain Corliss' quarters. I
explained the matter to the Captain, and left the man to his
mercy.
