n the evening, and the
next morning taking up our line of march for Fort Davis. This fort is
situated upon Lympia Creek, in Wild Rose Pass, a most lovely
_canon_, through the _Sierra Diablo_. It is about two hundred
feet wide, and carpeted with the richest green sward, while the sides,
composed of dark, columnar, basaltic rocks, rise to the height of a
thousand feet. Here, cozily nestled in this beautiful dell, surrounded by
lofty mountains, we came upon the white walls of the fort.

We encamped within half a mile of the post; and, the next morning, the
boys and I rode in to pay our respects to Colonel Sewell, then in
command.

The youngsters were delighted with everything they saw, and the sutler's
store proved a great attraction for them. They seemed determined to buy
out his entire stock in trade, this being their first opportunity to
spend money since we left San Antonio.

Colonel Young, the sutler, informed me that a friend from Chihuahua, Don
Ramon Ortiz, a wealthy Spanish gentleman, with his daughter and five
servants, had been for several days at the fort, awaiting the arrival of
some train with which they might travel to El Paso. If agreeable, they
would be pleased to accompany us.

I gladly gave assent, and was shortly introduced to the Don. He was a
fine-looking gentleman, about sixty years of age, intelligent, and
evidently a man of culture. The sickness of his daughter had caused his
delay at the fort; but, having recovered, he was anxious to resume his
journey.

The young lady proved to be a lovely little body, who spoke English like
a native, and was about sixteen years old. Her wealth of raven hair, eyes
of jet, and natural pleasant manner made _El Senorita Juanita_ as
bewitching a little companion as one would meet in many a day's travel.

From the instant Hal saw her he became a devoted admirer, and, I foresaw,
that so long as we travelled in company with Don Ramon, I need not again
fear his absence from the train.

One of the officers of the fort came to me, during the evening, with the
request that I would permit a young lad to travel through with me to the
Pacific coast, saying that he was without money or friends, and it would
be a charity if I would allow him to work his passage.

I had but just returned to camp when Ned appeared, bringing with him a
bright-looking Irish boy, about sixteen years of age. As he stood
twirling his hat, and resting awkwardly upon one foot, I asked,--

"What