It was certainly a novel
experience.

With but a sheet for a covering, there we lay, looking up at the starry
heavens. I watched the Great Bear go around, and other constellations
and seemed to come into close touch with Nature and the mysterious
night. But the melancholy solemnity of my communings was much affected
by the howling of the coyotes, which seemed sometimes to be so near
that I jumped to the side of the crib, to see if my little boy was being
carried off. The good sweet slumber which I craved never came to me in
those weird Arizona nights under the stars.

At about midnight, a sort of dewy coolness would come down from the sky,
and we could then sleep a little; but the sun rose incredibly early in
that southern country, and by the crack of dawn sheeted figures were to
be seen darting back into the quarters, to try for another nap. The nap
rarely came to any of us, for the heat of the houses never passed off,
day or night, at that season. After an early breakfast, the long day
began again.

The question of what to eat came to be a serious one. We experimented
with all sorts of tinned foods, and tried to produce some variety from
them, but it was all rather tiresome. We almost dreaded the visits of
the Paymaster and the Inspector at that season, as we never had anything
in the house to give them.

One hot night, at about ten o'clock, we heard the rattle of wheels, and
an ambulance drew up at our door. Out jumped Colonel Biddle, Inspector
General, from Fort Whipple. "What shall I give him to eat, poor hungry
man?" I thought. I looked in the wire-covered safe, which hung outside
the kitchen, and discovered half a beefsteak-pie. The gallant Colonel
declared that if there was one thing above all others that he liked, it
was cold beefsteak-pie. Lieutenant Thomas of the Fifth Cavalry echoed
his sentiments, and with a bottle of Cocomonga, which was always kept
cooling somewhere, they had a merry supper.

These visits broke the monotony of our life at Camp MacDowell. We heard
of the gay doings up at Fort Whipple, and of the lovely climate there.

Mr. Thomas said he could not understand why we wore such bags of
dresses. I told him spitefully that if the women of Fort Whipple would
come down to MacDowell to spend the summer, they would soon be able
to explain it to him. I began to feel embarrassed at the fit of my
house-gowns. After a few days spent with us, however, the mercury
ranging from l04 to l20 degrees in