Bowen proved to be a fairly good cook, and I ventured to ask people to dinner in our little hall dining-room, a veritable box of a place. One day, feeling particularly ambitious to have my dinner a success, I made a bold attempt at oyster² patties. With the confidence of youth and inexperience, I made the pastry³, and it was a success; I took a can of Baltimore oysters⁴, and did them up in a fashion that astonished myself, and when, after the soup, each guest was served with a hot oyster patty, one of the cavalry⁵ officers fairly gasped⁶. "Oyster patty, if I'm alive! Where on earth—Bless my stars! And this at Camp Apache!"  
"And by Holy Jerusalem! they are good, too," claimed Captain Reilly, and turning to Bowen, he said: "Bowen, did you make these?"
 
Bowen straightened himself up to his six foot two, clapped his heels together, and came to "attention," looked straight to the front, and replied: "Yes, sir."
 
I thought I heard Captain Reilly say in an undertone to his neighbor, "The hell he did," but I was not sure.
 
At that season, we got excellent wild turkeys there, and good Southdown mutton, and one could not complain of such living.
 
But I could never get accustomed to the wretched small space of one room and a hall; for the kitchen, being detached, could scarcely be counted in. I had been born and brought up in a spacious⁷ house, with plenty of bedrooms, closets, and an immense old-time garret. The forlorn makeshifts for closets, and the absence of all conveniences, annoyed me and added much to the difficulties of my situation. Added to this, I soon discovered that my husband had a penchant⁸ for buying and collecting things which seemed utterly⁹ worthless to me, and only added to the number of articles to be handled and packed away. I begged him to refrain, and to remember that he was married, and that we had not the money to spend in such ways. He really did try to improve, and denied himself the taking of many an alluring¹⁰ share in raffles¹¹ for old saddles, pistols, guns, and cow-boy's stuff, which were always being held at the sutler's store.
 
But an auction¹² of condemned¹³ hospital stores was too much for him, and he came in triumphantly¹⁴ one day, bringing a box of antiquated¹⁵ dentist's instruments in his hand.
 
"Good gracious!" I cried, "what can you ever do with those forceps?"
 
"Oh! they are splendid," he said, "and they will come in mighty¹⁶ handy some time."
 
I saw that he loved tools and instruments, and I reflected, why not? There are lots of things I have a passion for, and love, just as he loves those things and I shall never say any more about it. "Only," I added, aloud, "do not expect me to pack up such trash when we come to move; you will have to look out for it yourself."
 
So with that spiteful remark from me, the episode of the forceps was ended, for the time at least.
 
As the winter came on, the isolation¹⁷ of the place had a rather depressing effect upon us all. The officers were engaged in their various duties: drill, courts-martial, instruction, and other military occupations. They found some diversion at "the store," where the ranchmen assembled and told frontier stories and played exciting games of poker¹⁸. Jack¹⁹'s duties as commissary officer kept him much away from me, and I was very lonely.
 
The mail was brought in twice a week by a soldier on horseback. When he failed to come in at the usual time, much anxiety was manifested, and I learned that only a short time before, one of the mail-carriers had been killed by Indians and the mail destroyed. I did not wonder that on mail-day everybody came out in front of the quarters and asked: "Is the mail-carrier in?" And nothing much was done or thought of on that day, until we saw him come jogging in, the mail-bag tied behind his saddle. Our letters were from two to three weeks old. The eastern mail came via Santa Fe to the terminus of the railroad, and then by stage; for in 1874, the railroads did not extend very far into the Southwest. At a certain point on the old New Mexico road, our man met the San Carlos carrier, and received the mail for Apache.
 
"I do not understand," I said, "how any soldier can be found to take such a dangerous detail."
 
"Why so?" said Jack. "They like it."
 
"I should think that when they got into those canons and narrow defiles²⁰, they would think of the horrible fate of their predecessor," said I.
 
"Perhaps they do," he answered; "but a soldier is always glad to get a detail that gives him a change from the routine of post life."
 
I was getting to learn about the indomitable pluck of our soldiers. They did not seem to be afraid of anything. At Camp Apache my opinion of the American soldier was formed, and it has never changed. In the long march across the Territory, they had cared for my wants and performed uncomplainingly for me services usually rendered by women. Those were before the days of lineal promotion²¹. Officers remained with their regiments²² for many years. A feeling of regimental prestige held officers and men together. I began to share that feeling. I knew the names of the men in the company, and not one but was ready to do a service for the "Lieutenant²³'s wife." "K" had long been a bachelor company; and now a young woman had joined it. I was a person to be pampered²⁴ and cared for, and they knew besides that I was not long in the army.
 
During that winter I received many a wild turkey and other nice things for the table, from the men of the company. I learned to know and to thoroughly²⁵ respect the enlisted²⁶ man of the American army.
 
And now into the varied²⁷ kaleidoscope of my army life stepped the Indian Agent. And of all unkempt, unshorn, disagreeable-looking personages who had ever stepped foot into our quarters, this was the worst.
 
"Heaven save us from a Government which appoints such men as that to watch over and deal with Indians," cried I, as he left the house. "Is it possible that his position here demands social recognition?" I added.
 
"Hush²⁸!" said the second lieutenant of K company. "It's the Interior Department that appoints the Indian Agents, and besides," he added, "it's not good taste on your part, Martha, to abuse the Government which gives us our bread and butter."
 
"Well, you can say what you like, and preach policy all you wish, no Government on earth can compel me to associate with such men as those!" With that assertion, I left the room, to prevent farther argument.
 
And I will here add that in my experience on the frontier, which extended over a long period, it was never my good fortune to meet with an Indian Agent who impressed me as being the right sort of a man to deal with those children of nature, for Indians are like children, and their intuitions are keen. They know and appreciate honesty and fair dealing²⁹, and they know a gentleman when they meet one.
 
The winter came on apace, but the weather was mild and pleasant. One day some officers came in and said we must go over to the "Ravine" that evening, where the Indians were going to have a rare sort of a dance.
 
There was no one to say to me: "Do not go," and, as we welcomed any little excitement which would relieve the monotony of our lives, we cast aside all doubts of the advisability of my going. So, after dinner, we joined the others, and sallied forth³⁰ into the darkness of an Arizona night. We crossed the large parade-ground, and picked our way over a rough and pathless country, lighted only by the stars above.
 
Arriving at the edge of the ravine, what a scene was before us! We looked down into a natural amphitheatre, in which blazed great fires; hordes³¹ of wild Apaches darted³² about, while others sat on logs beating their tomtoms.
 
I was afraid, and held back, but the rest of the party descended³³ into the ravine, and, leaning on a good strong arm, I followed. We all sat down on the great trunk of a fallen tree, and soon the dancers came into the arena³⁴.
 
They were entirely³⁵ naked, except for the loin-cloth; their bodies were painted, and from their elbows and knees stood out bunches of feathers, giving them the appearance of huge flying creatures; jingling³⁶ things were attached to their necks and arms. Upon their heads were large frames, made to resemble the branching horns of an elk³⁷, and as they danced, and bowed their heads, the............