I watched with interest the loading of the great
prairie-schooners, into which went the soldiers' boxes and the
camp equipage. Outside was lashed a good deal of the lighter
stuff; I noticed a barrel of china, which looked much like our
own, lashed directly over one wheel. Then there were the massive
blue army wagons, which were also heavily loaded; the laundresses
with their children and belongings were placed in these.
At last the command moved out. It was to me a novel sight. The
wagons and schooners were each drawn by teams of six heavy mules,
while a team of six lighter mules was put to each ambulance and
carriage. These were quite different from the draught animals I
had always seen in the Eastern States; these Government mules
being sleek, well-fed and trained to trot as fast as the average
carriage-horse. The harnesses were quite smart, being trimmed off
with white ivory rings. Each mule was "Lize" or "Fanny" or
"Kate", and the soldiers who handled the lines were accustomed to
the work; for work, and arduous work, it proved to be, as we
advanced into the then unknown Territory of Arizona.
The main body of the troops marched in advance; then came the
ambulances and carriages, followed by the baggage-wagons and a
small rear-guard. When the troops were halted once an hour for
rest, the officers, who marched with the soldiers, would come to
the ambulances and chat awhile, until the bugle call for
"Assembly" sounded, when they would join their commands again,
the men would fall in, the call "Forward" was sounded, and the
small-sized army train moved on.
The first day's march was over a dreary country; a hot wind blew,
and everything was filled with dust. I had long ago discarded my
hat, as an unnecessary and troublesome article; consequently my
head wa snow a mass of fine white dust, which stuck fast, of
course. I was covered from head to foot with it, and it would not
shake off, so, although our steamboat troubles were over, our
land troubles had begun.
We reached, after a few hours' travel, the desolate place where
we were to camp.
In the mean time, it had been arranged for Major Worth, who had
no family, to share our mess, and we had secured the services of
a soldier belonging to his company whose ability as a camp cook
was known to both officers.
I cannot say that life in the army, as far as I had gone,
presented any very great attractions. This, our first camp, was
on the river, a little above Hardyville. Good water was there,
and that was all; I had not yet learned to appreciate that.
