t stage back for Florence, which left that evening. Those
two nights on the Tucson stage are a blank in my memory. I got through
them somehow.

In the morning, as we approached the town of Florence, the great blue
army wagon containing our household goods, hove in sight--its white
canvas cover stretched over hoops, its six sturdy mules coming along
at a good trot, and Sergeant Stone cracking his long whip, to keep up a
proper pace in the eyes of the Tucson stage-driver.

Jack called him to halt, and down went the Sergeant's big brakes.
Both teams came to a stand-still, and we told the Sergeant the news.
Bewilderment, surprise, joy, followed each other on the old Sergeant's
countenance. He turned his heavy team about, and promised to reach Camp
MacDowell as soon as the animals could make it. At Florence, we left the
stage, and went to the little tavern once more; the stage route did not
lie in our direction, so we must hire a private conveyance to bring us
to Camp MacDowell. Jack found a man who had a good pair of ponies and an
open buckboard. Towards night we set forth to cross the plain which lies
between Florence and the Salt River, due northwest by the map.

When I saw the driver I did not care much for his appearance. He did
not inspire me with confidence, but the ponies looked strong, and we had
forty or fifty miles before us.

After we got fairly into the desert, which was a trackless waste, I
became possessed by a feeling that the man did not know the way. He
talked a good deal about the North Star, and the fork in the road, and
that we must be sure not to miss it.

It was a still, hot, starlit night. Jack and the driver sat on the front
seat. They had taken the back seat out, and my little boy and I sat in
the bottom of the wagon, with the hard cushions to lean against through
the night. I suppose we were drowsy with sleep; at all events, the talk
about the fork of the road and the North Star faded away into dreams.

I awoke with a chilly feeling, and a sudden jolt over a rock. "I do
not recollect any rocks on this road, Jack, when we came over it in the
ambulance," said I.

"Neither do I," he replied.

I looked for the North Star: I had looked for it often when in open
boats. It was away off on our left, the road seemed to be ascending and
rocky: I had never seen this piece of road before, that I was sure of.

"We are going to the eastward," said I, "and we should be going
northwest."

"My dear, lie