Yea, so overthrown, That wilder men than we had said, On seeing this, with gathered breath, "We come on the confines of death!"-- JOAQUIN MILLER.
Six good cavalrymen galloped along by our side, on the morning of April 24th, 1875, as with two ambulances, two army wagons, and a Mexican guide, we drove out of Camp Apache at a brisk trot.
The drivers were all armed, and spare rifles hung inside the ambulances.
I wore a small derringer, with a narrow belt filled with cartridges.

An incongruous sight, methinks now, it must have been.

A young mother, pale and thin, a child of scarce three months in her arms, and a pistol belt around her waist! I scarcely looked back at Camp Apache.

We had a long day's march before us, and we looked ahead.

Towards night we made camp at Cooley's ranch, and slept inside, on the floor.