_13th April_ (Monday).--I breakfasted with General Bee, and took leave
of all my Brownsville friends.

M'Carthy is to give me four times the value of my gold in Confederate
notes.[6]

We left Brownsville for San Antonio at 11 A.M. Our vehicle was a roomy,
but rather over-loaded, four-wheel carriage, with a canvass roof, and
four mules. Besides M'Carthy, there was a third passenger, in the shape
of a young merchant of the Hebrew persuasion. Two horses were to join
us, to help us through the deep sand.

The country, on leaving Brownsville, is quite flat, the road, a natural
one, sandy and very dusty, and there are many small trees, principally
mosquites. After we had proceeded seven miles, we halted to water the
mules.

At 2 P.M. a new character appeared upon the scene, in the shape of an
elderly, rough-faced, dirty-looking man, who rode up, mounted on a sorry
nag. To my surprise he was addressed by M'Carthy with the title of
"Judge," and asked what he had done with our other horse. The judge
replied that it had already broken down, and had been left behind.
M'Carthy informs me that this worthy really is a magistrate or sort of
judge in his own district; but he now appears in the capacity of
assistant mule-driver, and is to make himself generally useful. I could
not help feeling immensely amused at this specimen of a Texan judge. We
started again about 3 P.M., and soon emerged from the mosquite bushes
into an open prairie eight miles long, quite desolate, and producing
nothing but a sort of rush; after which we entered a chaparal, or thick
covert of mosquite trees and high prickly pears. These border the track,
and are covered with bits of cotton torn from the endless trains of
cotton waggons. We met several of these waggons. Generally there were
ten oxen or six mules to a waggon carrying ten bales, but in deep sand
more animals are necessary. They journey very slowly towards
Brownsville, from places in the interior of Texas at least five hundred
miles distant. Want of water and other causes make the drivers and
animals undergo much hardship.

The judge rides on in front of us on his "Rosinante," to encourage the
mules. His back view reminds one in a ludicrous manner of the pictures
of Dr Syntax.

Mr Sargent, our portly driver, cheers his animals by the continual
repetition of the sentence, "Get up, now, you great long-eared G----d
d----d son of a ----."

At 5 P.M. we reached a well, with a farm or ranch close t