10086, 10087. (letter) Fort Bowie, Arizona Ty., July 21st, 1867, Amiga Mia

Fort Bowie, Arizona T y. July 21st, 1867. Amiga Mia, Behold how very magnanimous I am. Waiting not to exact the just award of the law, but writing again. You will owe me two letters and if you would avoid the terrors of my wrath write without delay . After forwarding the last letter from Camp McPherson a letter from you was received which had been three months on the way so I was slightly unjust in my judgment. I write again however so you must pay me a double return. On the 22d of June orders came for me to proceed to Fort Goodwin. Had then just returned from a ten day's scout after indians in the mountains. Lieut. Owens, formerly of Santa Clara, was waiting at camp, also on his way to his own post, and a Lieut. of the 32d. Taking an armed escort we came down across the interior to Tucson. It was a rough trip. There was one stretch over the desert of fifty miles without water and when we did reach the river it was so salty as to be scarcely drinkable. This side of the Gila there was another desert of forty five miles without water. Heat was almost fear— fum. Thermometer stood at 1100 inside of the thick adobe houses at the stations. On reaching Tucson I rec 'd. new orders directing me to go to Fort Bowie instead of Goodwin. Was waiting at Tucson nearly two weeks for an escort. Tucson is a crumbling r sleepy old Spanish town which saw its best days a century ago. From the time of the old Missions the people seem to have been degenerating. None of their present buildings can compare with the ruined walls of the buildings erected by the Padres in the dim, early days that seem almost a dream age, so old do the ruined Missions look. Nine miles from Tucson is the church which Ross Brown described in Harper Is. of " San Xavier del Bac, " After the rains had cleared the atmosphere its towers loomed up against the mountain back—ground , scarcely tall and massive , dimmed by the intervening miles. With an opera glass I could distinguish the walls and angles and the rounding curves of the dome. There was no opportunity to visit it, but I shall go to see it on my return. The green, rich vegetation about Tucson was very pleasant after so many days on the desert. Lieut. Owens remains stationed at Tucson. On the 14th, inst. an escort was furnished and I came on to Bowie. The country from Tucson out is very different from the desert of the central part of the territory. The altitude increases very rapidly and the land is covered with a growth of wild grass. The climate too grows much cooler. Here at camp snow falls in winter fifteen inches deep. I am well into the heart of the continent now. Thirty—five miles East the New Mexico line runs, and from there the water runs no longer to the Pacific but flows off to the Rio Grande and down to the Gulf. The Rio, Grande is not quite two hundred miles distant. Fort Bowie is Apache Pass . " situated among the mountains in what is called The overland road winds here for several miles Fort Bowie, Arizona T y. July 21st, 1867. Amiga Mia, Behold how very magnanimous I am. Waiting not to exact the just award of the law, but writing again. You will owe me two letters and if you would avoid the terrors of my wrath write without delay . After forwarding the last letter from Camp McPherson a letter from you was received which had been three months on the way so I was slightly unjust in my judgment. I write again however so you must pay me a double return. On the 22d of June orders came for me to proceed to Fort Goodwin. Had then just returned from a ten day's scout after indians in the mountains. Lieut. Owens, formerly of Santa Clara, was waiting at camp, also on his way to his own post, and a Lieut. of the 32d. Taking an armed escort we came down across the interior to Tucson. It was a rough trip. There was one stretch over the desert of fifty miles without water and when we did reach the river it was so salty as to be scarcely drinkable. This side of the Gila there was another desert of forty five miles without water. Heat was almost fear— fum. Thermometer stood at 1100 inside of the thick adobe houses at the stations. On reaching Tucson I rec 'd. new orders directing me to go to Fort Bowie instead of Goodwin. Was waiting at Tucson nearly two weeks for an escort. Tucson is a crumbling r sleepy old Spanish town which saw its best days a century ago. From the time of the old Missions the people seem to have been degenerating. None of their present buildings can compare with the ruined walls of the buildings erected by the Padres in the dim, early days that seem almost a dream age, so old do the ruined Missions look. Nine miles from Tucson is the church which Ross Brown described in Harper Is. of " San Xavier del Bac, " After the rains had cleared the atmosphere its towers loomed up against the mountain back—ground , scarcely tall and massive , dimmed by the intervening miles. With an opera glass I could distinguish the walls and angles and the rounding curves of the dome. There was no opportunity to visit it, but I shall go to see it on my return. The green, rich vegetation about Tucson was very pleasant after so many days on the desert. Lieut. Owens remains stationed at Tucson. On the 14th, inst. an escort was furnished and I came on to Bowie. The country from Tucson out is very different from the desert of the central part of the territory. The altitude increases very rapidly and the land is covered with a growth of wild grass. The climate too grows much cooler. Here at camp snow falls in winter fifteen inches deep. I am well into the heart of the continent now. Thirty—five miles East the New Mexico line runs, and from there the water runs no longer to the Pacific but flows off to the Rio Grande and down to the Gulf. The Rio, Grande is not quite two hundred miles distant. Fort Bowie is Apache Pass . " situated among the mountains in what is called The overland road winds here for several miles