To the world a most
interesting account of this wonderful river and the canons
through which it cuts its tempestuous way to the Gulf of
California, in two volumes entitled "The Romance of the Great
Colorado" and "A Canon Voyage".
______________________________________________________
We bade good-bye to our gallant river captain and watched the
great stern-wheeler as she swung out into the stream, and,
heading up river, disappeared around a bend; for even at that
time this venturesome pilot had pushed his boat farther up than
any other steam-craft had ever gone, and we heard that there were
terrific rapids and falls and unknown mysteries above. The
superstition of centuries hovered over the "great cut," and but
few civilized beings had looked down into its awful depths.
Brave, dashing, handsome Jack Mellon! What would I give and what
would we all give, to see thee once more, thou Wizard of the
Great Colorado!
We turned our faces towards the Mojave desert, and I wondered,
what next?
The Post Surgeon kindly took care of us for two days and nights,
and we slept upon the broad piazzas of his quarters.
We heard no more the crackling and fizzing of the
stern-wheeler's high-pressure engines at daylight, and our eyes,
tired with gazing at the red whirlpools of the river, found
relief in looking out upon the grey-white flat expanse which
surrounded Fort Mojave, and merged itself into the desert
beyond.
CHAPTER VII
THE MOJAVE DESERT
Thou white and dried-up sea! so old! So strewn with wealth, so
sown with gold! Yes, thou art old and hoary white With time and
ruin of all things, And on thy lonesome borders Night Sits
brooding o'er with drooping wings. - JOAQUIN MILLER.
The country had grown steadily more unfriendly ever since leaving
Fort Yuma, and the surroundings of Camp Mojave were dreary
enough.
But we took time to sort out our belongings, and the officers
arranged for transportation across the Territory. Some had
bought, in San Francisco, comfortable travelling-carriages for
their families. They were old campaigners; they knew a thing or
two about Arizona; we lieutenants did not know, we had never
heard much about this part of our country. But a comfortable
large carriage, known as a Dougherty wagon, or, in common army
parlance, an ambulance, was secured for me to travel in. This
vehicle had a large body, with two seats facing each other, and a
seat outside for the driver. The inside of the wagon could be
closed if desired by canvas sides and back which rolled up and
down, and by a curtain which dropped behind the driver's seat. So
I was enabled to have some degree of privacy, if I wished.
We repacked our mess-chest, and bought from the Commissary at
Mojave the provisions necessary for the long journey to Fort
Whipple, which was the destination of one of the companies and
the headquarters officers.
