It never rained, and the climate was superb, although it was always hot in the sun.

We had heard that it was very hot here; in fact, people called MacDowell by very bad names.

As the spring came on, we began to realize that the epithets applied to it might be quite appropriate.
In front of our quarters was a ramada, [*] supported by rude poles of the cottonwood tree.

Then came the sidewalk, and the acequia (ditch), then a row of young cottonwood trees, then the parade ground.

Through the acequia ran the clear water that supplied the post, and under the shade of the ramadas, hung the large ollas from which we dipped the drinking water, for as yet, of course, ice was not even dreamed of in the far plains of MacDowell.