Chapter 11

New Mexico Territory, July, 1894

The wind was picking up; would the monsoon be a little early this year? I hoped that I was a little too far north and east to run into a big sandstorm; I thought that the finest sand was west of here. Of course, I have been wrong before.

The wind continued to pick up; I needed to start looking for shelter before it got too bad. I didn't see anything that would be useful. The wind and sand finally reached the point where I had to do something. There were not any trees within view and no hills worth worrying with. I figured that my only choice was what I could make myself.

I never heard of it being done before, but I had an idea that might save us. I dismounted and hitched my horse to some brush so that her head was facing downwind. I pulled off the saddle and moved the blanket up over her head to keep the sand out of her ears and face. I tied the blanket in place and hoped it would hold. I then took my ground sheet and threw it over her back and pulled it down over her tail and legs to the ground. I tied it and pegged it in place. I extended it toward her head by tyeing my duster over her back so that it fell toward the ground on both sides. I then took my canteen and grub pack and crawled under my horse's belly. At least she was a mare and less likely to piss on me!

As long as the horse would stand quietly, she and I had some shelter from the elements. I had no idea how long the storm would last, but I figured my luck was usually good, so this time it would be bad. I rolled in my sleeping blanket and tried to sleep while I waited the storm out.

The storm lasted until sometime the next afternoon. I had been able to feed and water my horse around the blanket over her head. It took some juggling, but I managed. I was able to eat some bread and cheese and drink water, but I sure missed my coffee! Of course, I couldn't build a fire under my horse; we've all heard the jokes about that.

My horse and I were both relieved when the sand finally stopped, though the wind never did; I guess it just ran out of sand to push around. I removed my horse's extra clothing and got my stuff straightened out. I mounted and we left the site of what I'd call a sand-in. Actually, this storm was nowhere near as bad as some I have been in, but it was bad enough to be very uncomfortable. We moved out downwind; it just wasn't worth going any other way.

The next day, I came to a town. Well, I guess it was a town well on its way to becoming a ghost town. As I rode down the main, and only, street I could see that most of the businesses were boarded up and abandoned. The only place that looked like it was open was a saloon; you know a town is dieing when it has only one saloon! I tied my horse to the hitching rail and walked in. I thought that everybody still living in town must be in the saloon, and I was right.

There was only one woman in the saloon, the "saloon girl," and maybe a dozen men; I'd get an exact count, later, if it was important. On the bar was a half-empty case of beer and an unopened case beside it. Everybody was drinking from bottles, and one man turned to me, "Welcome, stranger! Welcome to the wake for Gila City! You're just in time for a free beer, the last of the nectar in town. We've already finished off one case, but there's plenty for you to catch up."

Now, I have never turned down a free beer when it was offered so graciously, so I helped myself from the opened case. Of course the beer was warm, but it was beer! I asked, "Why the solemn occasion, or is it a happy occasion?"

The same gentleman who had spoked before, offered, "The town's last well has dried up and we're getting ready to move out. This was a happy little town, but without water, there's no way we can stay."

I asked, "What are the prospect of making the water flow again? And would you stay if you could get water?"

"Of course we would stay, and I'm sure some, if not all, of the former residents would return if we could just get water," he said. "The well still has some wet sand at the bottom, so there may be water down there, but there is a layer of rock we can't dig through blocking it off. Dynamite might fix it, but we don't have any and don't know how to use it if we did."

Taking another beer from the case, I offered, "Today may be your lucky day. I'll repay you for the beer with dynamite. I happen to have a few sticks with me and I know how to use it."

With that statement, the saloon seemed to come to life. They immediately offered to lead me to the prospective well. Everybody got a fresh beer and off we went; I stopped by my horse to pick up the saddle bag with my dynamite, caps, and fuse. We moved off a little way down the street and came to a public well in a little open space. It was even shaded by a tree! I was sure that the living tree meant that there was still water available.

I looked down the well, and, yes, I could see a trace of water in the bottom. I thought, "What the Hell, these are nice folks. Maybe I can help them out." I got a stick of dynamite from my bag, capped it, and inserted the fuse. Borrowing a lit cigar stub from one of the spectators, I moved everybody back a safe distance, and lit the fuse. I dropped the dynamite down the well and ran back out of the way.

I had hardly returned the cigar butt to its owner when the dynamite went off. Sand, rock, and water came flying out of the well opening. We all rushed over and looked down. Water was bubbling up through the debris at the bottom of the well! At this sight, there was a great deal of laughing, shouting, and back-slapping among the crowd. We all agreed that the day was saved and the town could return to life! Everybody was so happy that the "saloon girl" offered to let me spend the night with her—on the house! Naturally, I took her up on that!

I left town the next day to a joyous send-off. I hoped that those people would continue to be so happy. It was only a few hours later that I ran into the opposite emotion.

I saw in the distance a wagon stopped in the middle of the road. I looked through my binoculars and saw that the wagon had a broken wheel. Standing beside the wagon was a man, a woman, and three small children. I decided to see if I could help, so I sped up to a fast trot. It didn't take me long to reach the wagon.

"Good day," I said as I approached. "Though it looks like yours has started off less than that."

"Yes," said the man. "Bad luck has plagued us the last few days. We just now bumped over a rock and broke a wheel. We have a replacement wheel, but I can't put it on by myself; I really need help!"

"Perhaps I can help," I offered. "Let me get down and see what we can do."

"It looks to me like the two of us could lift your emptied wagon and your wife could push something under to hold it up while we replaced the wheel. Then we could lift again and push it off the support. We could reload it and you could be on your way."

"That sounds workable to me. Let's get started," he said.

We unloaded the wagon and found some stuff we could pile up to make a support for the wagon while we replaced the wheel. We did all of that and quickly got everything back in operation.

"Thank you for all your help. Could you have lunch with us before we part company? My wife had fixed a full cold meal for us before we left camp this morning and you certainly are welcome to join us for it. I'll pull off the road right here and we can eat."

He pulled off the road and rigged a tarp for a sunshade. He started a small fire to brew coffee while his wife laid out the food. It was delicious! Now that was a very pleasant way to spend the midday meal. I told them of the town a short distance away where they might find a replacement wheel, but not to expect too much in the way of customer service. At that, I wished them a happy trip and took my leave.