It was shipped by wagon trains across the Territory, and at all times the work carried large responsibilities with it.
I soon realized that however much the present incumbent might like the situation, it was no fit place for a woman.
The station at Ehrenberg was what we call, in the army, "detached service." I realized that we had left the army for the time being; that we had cut loose from a garrison; that we were in a place where good food could not be procured, and where there were practically no servants to be had.

That there was not a woman to speak to, or to go to for advice or help, and, worst of all, that there was no doctor in the place.

Besides all this, my clothes were all ruined by lying wet for a fortnight in the boxes, and I had practically nothing to wear.

I did not then know what useless things clothes were in Ehrenberg.
The situation appeared rather serious; the weather had grown intensely hot, and it was decided that the only thing for me to do was to go to San Francisco for the summer.
So one day we heard the whistle of the "Gila" going up; and when she came down river, I was all ready to go on board, with Patrocina and Jesusita, [*] and my own child, who was yet but five months old.

I bade farewell to the man on detached service, and we headed down river.