must take it, or we could not exist.

With some concessions on both sides we were finally packed up, and
left Fort Russell about the middle of June, with the first detachment,
consisting of head-quarters and band, for San Francisco, over the Union
Pacific Railroad.

For it must be remembered, that in 1874 there were no railroads in
Arizona, and all troops which were sent to that distant territory either
marched over-land through New Mexico, or were transported by steamer
from San Francisco down the coast, and up the Gulf of California to Fort
Yuma, from which point they marched up the valley of the Gila to the
southern posts, or continued up the Colorado River by steamer, to
other points of disembarkation, whence they marched to the posts in the
interior, or the northern part of the territory.

Much to my delight, we were allowed to remain over in San Francisco, and
go down with the second detachment. We made the most of the time, which
was about a fortnight, and on the sixth of August we embarked with six
companies of soldiers, Lieutenant Colonel Wilkins in command, on the old
steamship "Newbern," Captain Metzger, for Arizona.

CHAPTER IV. DOWN THE PACIFIC COAST

Now the "Newbern" was famous for being a good roller, and she lived
up to her reputation. For seven days I saw only the inside of our
stateroom. At the end of that time we arrived off Cape St. Lucas (the
extreme southern point of Lower California), and I went on deck.

We anchored and took cattle aboard. I watched the natives tow them off,
the cattle swimming behind their small boats, and then saw the poor
beasts hoisted up by their horns to the deck of our ship.

I thought it most dreadfully cruel, but was informed that it had been
done from time immemorial, so I ceased to talk about it, knowing that
I could not reform those aged countries, and realizing, faintly perhaps
(for I had never seen much of the rough side of life), that just as
cruel things were done to the cattle we consume in the North.

Now that Mr. Sinclair, in his great book "The Jungle," has brought the
multiplied horrors of the great packing-houses before our very eyes, we
might witness the hoisting of the cattle over the ship's side without
feeling such intense pity, admitting that everything is relative, even
cruelty.

It was now the middle of August, and the weather had become insufferably
hot, but we were out of the long swell of the Pacific Ocean; we had
rounded Cape St.