salubrious dwelling-place, was
being gradually and literally undermined. I began to be distrustful of
the very ground beneath my feet. Ellen felt the same way, evidently,
although we did not talk much about it. She probably longed also
for some of her own kind; and when, one morning, we went into the
dining-room for breakfast, Ellen stood, hat on, bag in hand, at the
door. Dreading to meet my chagrin, she said: "Good-bye, Captain;
good-bye, missis, you've been very kind to me. I'm leaving on the stage
for Tucson--where I first started for, you know."

And she tripped out and climbed up into the dusty, rickety vehicle
called "the stage." I had felt so safe about Ellen, as I did not know
that any stage line ran through the place.

And now I was in a fine plight! I took a sunshade, and ran over to
Fisher's house. "Mr. Fisher, what shall I do? Ellen has gone to Tucson!"

Fisher bethought himself, and we went out together in the village. Not
a woman to be found who would come to cook for us! There was only one
thing to do. The Quartermaster was allowed a soldier, to assist in the
Government work. I asked him if he understood cooking; he said he had
never done any, but he would try, if I would show him how.

This proved a hopeless task, and I finally gave it up. Jack dispatched
an Indian runner to Fort Yuma, ninety miles or more down river, begging
Captain Ernest to send us a soldier-cook on the next boat.

This was a long time to wait; the inconveniences were intolerable: there
were our four selves, Patrocina and Jesusita, the soldier-clerk and the
Indian, to be provided for: Patrocina prepared carni seca with peppers,
a little boy came around with cuajada, a delicious sweet curd cheese,
and I tried my hand at bread, following out Ellen's instructions.

How often I said to my husband. "If we must live in this wretched place,
let's give up civilization and live as the Mexicans do! They are the
only happy beings around here.

"Look at them, as you pass along the street! At nearly any hour in the
day you can see them, sitting under their ramada, their backs propped
against the wall of their casa, calmly smoking cigarettes and gazing at
nothing, with a look of ineffable contentment upon their features! They
surely have solved the problem of life!"

But we seemed never to be able to free ourselves from the fetters of
civilization, and so I struggled on.

One evening after dusk, I went into the kitchen, opened the kitchen