over the fire. I stirred up a mixture in the basin, but the
humiliation of failure was spared me, for just then, without
warning, came one of those terrific sandstorms which prevail on
the deserts of Arizona, blowing us all before it in its fury, and
filling everything with sand.

We all scurried to the tents; some of them had blown down. There
was not much shelter, but the storm was soon over, and we stood
collecting our scattered senses. I saw Mrs. Wilkins at the door
of her tent. She beckoned to me; I went over there, and she said:
"Now, my dear, I am going to give you some advice. You must not
take it unkindly. I am an old army woman and I have made many
campaigns with the Colonel; you have but just joined the army.
You must never try to do any cooking at the camp-fire. The
soldiers are there for that work, and they know lots more about
it than any of us do."

"But, Jack," I began--

"Never mind Jack," said she; "he does not know as much as I do
about it; and when you reach your post," she added, "you can show
him what you can do in that line."

Bowen cleared away the sandy remains of the doubtful dough, and
prepared for us a very fair supper. Soldiers' bacon, and coffee,
and biscuits baked in a Dutch oven.

While waiting for the sun to set, we took a short stroll over to
the adobe ruins. Inside the enclosure lay an enormous
rattlesnake, coiled. It was the first one I had ever seen except