Little Pills, an Army Story. R. H. McKay
building a wagon road over the Raton Pass. This road was completed and I think had been for some time before I crossed the pass. If I remember correctly we crossed a little stream coming down from near the top of the range thirteen times before we came to the top of the pass. Wooton had some kind of permit or authority from the government for building this road and was authorized to make it a toll road. He was reported to have made quite a fortune from the revenue derived from it.
A little place called Cimarron, (which in Spanish means mountain of sheep) or Maxwell's ranch was the next place of interest to me. This is some distance south of the Raton Range, maybe half way from Trinidad to Fort Union. It seemed that Maxwell married a high class Spanish woman whose family owned an immense estate in what was Mexico before it was ceded to the United States. In the division of the estate Maxwell's wife got a grant of many thousands of acres on the head waters of the Cimarron, a tributary of the Canadian, which I understand was very much reduced as a result of extended litigation with the government as to title. We traveled for miles on what was then called Maxwell's Ranch, where great herds of sheep, cattle and horses were to be seen, with an adobe house here and there, where herders lived. It was a great pleasure to stop even for one meal at such a place as Maxwell's. The house was commodious and handsomely furnished and everything was prosperous and home-like. Some years later I had the pleasure of acquaintance of a daughter of Mr. Maxwell's who married a lieutenant in the army and we were serving at the same post.
We passed Fort Union in the night and I did not get to see much of it, but I understand it to be only a military post and base of supplies, for the Quarter-Master or Commissary Department of the army for the District of New Mexico.
My first view of Las Vegas (The Meadows, in Spanish) was over a beautiful wide valley, some three or four miles across, through which a pretty little stream of water, the source of the Pecos river, was wending its way. The view was beautiful and the town looked to be a place of importance, but proved to be disappointing on a closer acquaintance.
Not far from Las Vegas we passed what was called the old Pecos church. It was only a little distance from the road and said to have been built in the seventeenth century. It stood alone in its desolation and had partially fallen into decay. The roof was off, the walls partly broken down and it looked to be as old as reported.
We arrived in Santa Fe late in the evening and stopped at the hotel or fonda, as it is called in Spanish. At first one feels that he is in a different country; something foreign and out of the usual, and this feeling grows with closer acquaintance. For instance you go direct from the street to your room if your wife is with you, or to a kind of a lobby or sitting room with a bar at one side if alone.
I was thankful that the stage ride was ended. We had been going night and day since leaving the railroad at Sheridan, Kans., a distance of nearly four hundred miles, and although I had the stage to myself most of the way, one passenger got on at Cimarron that I will feel grateful to the balance of my days, and from Fort Union to Santa Fe the coach was crowded all the way. The stage lines in those days had a conductor who went to the end of the route, much as our railroad conductors do today, while the drivers like our engineers, only went to what might be called division points, say twelve-hour trips.
The conductor has charge, and is responsible for the United States mail and the express packages which are carried in what is called the front boot, and where the conductor curls up among the mail sacks and packages and sleeps at night. The back boot is devoted to baggage. Inside there are generally two seats facing each other and wide enough for three persons if not too big, on each seat. The stage coach had a great swinging body resting on two immense leather straps for springs, one on each side underneath and extending from front to back. These flexible springs gave the coach an easy side swing and it was not a particularly unpleasant thing to ride in.
Having arrived in Santa Fe late Saturday evening I did not report until next morning, and about noon an orderly brought to the hotel my orders from the Chief Medical officer directing me to report to the commanding officer at Fort Selden, New Mex., for assignment to duty. This was startling news, for Fort Selden was the last military post before reaching the Mexican border and I had only $2.50 in my pocket and my hotel bill to pay. Being new in the service and something of a tenderfoot I did not want to go to the other officers for help. I left my room and went down to the hotel lobby and among others who were there was the gentleman who got on the stage at Cimarron. We had traveled together from Cimarron to Santa Fe with hardly the exchange of the usual courtesies. I was not a good mixer and he had nothing to say, but my case was very desperate. I had to talk to someone so I asked if he was acquainted in Santa Fe and he said "some." I told him my troubles and that I had a good watch and a good pistol (that pistol was a hoodoo by this time) that I would put up as security for a few dollars to pay my expenses on the way to Fort Selden. He said: "Well, nobody would give you anything for them things. If I had the money I would let you have it." This in a rather slow drowning voice. I took this as a matter of course. Anybody would talk the same way, I thought, whether they had it or not.
Dinner was soon ready. The dining room was away to the rear end of this somewhat rambling hotel building. We passed through a billiard hall and maybe some store rooms before reaching it. I think, however, there was a different route for the ladies. I suppose the dinner was good but do not remember much about it. I do remember, however, on the way back through the pool hall I stopped to glance around the room which was a very long one with many tables and many players. The second table away became very interesting to me for near it stood my man of short acquaintance apparently talking to one of the players, a large fine looking man who, laying his cue across the corner of the table, pulled out such a wad of bills as I had never seen before and commenced counting out the money to my newly made acquaintance. I passed and went up to my room wondering if he would keep his word, now that he had the money. I tried to read but made poor headway. Pretty soon there was a light tap on the door and I said "come in." The door opened and there was my new found friend who took a seat in a rather deliberate way and said nothing. I made some remark about the weather which seemed to meet his approval but directly he asked me: "About how much money do you think you will need?" I told him I thought about twenty dollars would be enough. He brought from his pocket a great bunch of bank notes and counted out twenty dollars and handed it to me. When I offered my security he politely turned them down saying he would take chances. When I asked him if he had never lost money that way he replied, "Yes, some." And when I said I would feel better myself if he would take something to make himself safe he said, "Oh no, I'll take chances." When next I inquired about his knowledge of Santa Fe and the west generally he became more communicative and informed me that he had spent all his life from a youngster as a prospector, sometimes striking it good and selling out and trying it again; sometimes having plenty of money, and at other times having nothing. Someone else would then furnish him a "grub-stake" as he called it with which to try again. He and his partners had just sold out a gold mine at Cimarron and I presume the money I saw him receive from the big man at the pool table was part of the proceeds of that sale. He finally asked me if I cared to walk about the town some. I think I would have gone with him anywhere, so I responded very promptly that I would like to. The town was utterly strange to me, so different from anything I had ever seen: adobe walls, adobe houses, and the people were as strange looking as the houses. The women wore some kind of a wrap over their head called a mantilla (pronounced man-tee-ya, with the accent on the second syllable) leaving a little open space for one eye to peep out at people they met, and the men with the wide brimmed, high peaked hats that I afterwards learned are the universal costumes of the Mexican people. After looking around a bit my companion asked me if I would like to see a cock-fight. Sure thing, of course I would, although having been raised a strict Scotch Presbyterian I felt some qualms of conscience about witnessing such an exhibition on the "Sabbath."
SATANTA
War Chief of the Kiowas
Original in our possession, taken by Soule,
of Boston, while we were stationed
at Fort Sill
The amphitheater in which the exhibition was given was without cover and enclosed by a high adobe wall. It was crowded with men and women, mostly Mexicans,