I seen. Over the
sides we clambered, however, and were ferried across the treacherous
and glassy waters of the Little Colorado. All the baggage and the two
ambulances were ferried over, and the other wagon was unloaded and drawn
over by means of ropes.

This proceeding took all day, and of course we could get no farther, and
were again obliged to camp in that most uncomfortable river-bottom. But
we felt safer on that side. I looked at the smooth surface of the river,
and its alkali shores, and the picture became indelibly impressed upon
my memory. The unpleasant reality destroyed any poetic associations
which might otherwise have clung to the name of Sunset Crossing in my
ever vivid imagination.

After the tents were pitched, and the camp snugged up, Mr. Bailey
produced some champagne and we wished each other joy, that we had made
the dangerous crossing and escaped the perils of Sanford's Pass. I am
afraid the champagne was not as cold as might have been desired, but the
bottle had been wrapped in a wet blanket, and cooled a little in that
way, and we drank it with zest, from a mess-cup.

CHAPTER XVI. STONEMAN'S LAKE

The road began now to ascend, and after twenty miles' travelling we
reached a place called Updyke's Tanks. It was a nice place, with plenty
of wood and grass. The next day we camped at Jay Coxe's Tanks. It was
a hard day's march, and I was tired out when we arrived there. The
ambulance was simply jerked over those miles of fearful rocks; one could
not say driven or dragged over, for we were pitched from rock to rock
the entire distance.

Stoneman's Lake Road was famous, as I afterwards heard. Perhaps it was
just as well for me that I did not know about it in advance.

The sure-footed mules picked their way over these sharp-edged rocks.
There was not a moment's respite. We asked a soldier to help with
holding the baby, for my arms gave out entirely, and were as if
paralyzed. The jolting threw us all by turns against the sides of
the ambulance (which was not padded), and we all got some rather bad
bruises. We finally bethought ourselves of the pappoose basket, which we
had brought along in the ambulance, having at the last moment no other
place to put it. So a halt was called, we placed the tired baby in this
semi-cradle, laced the sides snugly over him, and were thus enabled to
carry him over those dreadful roads without danger.

He did not cry much, but the dust made him thirsty. I could not