shall cook for our supper; and--don't you think it would be
nice if you could show him how to make some of those good New England
doughnuts? I think Major Worth might like them; and after all the
awful stuff we have had, you know," et caetera, et caetera. I met the
situation, after an inward struggle, and said, weakly, "Where are the
eggs?" "Oh," said he, "you don't need eggs; you're on the frontier now;
you must learn to do without eggs."

Everything in me rebelled, but still I yielded. You see I had been
married only six months; the women at home, and in Germany also, had
always shown great deference to their husbands' wishes. But at that
moment I almost wished Major Worth and Jack and Bowen and the mess-chest
at the bottom of the Rio Colorado. However, I nerved myself for the
effort, and when Bowen had his camp-fire made, he came and called me.

At the best, I never had much confidence in my ability as a cook, but
as a camp cook! Ah, me! Everything seemed to swim before my eyes, and I
fancied that the other women were looking at me from their tents. Bowen
was very civil, turned back the cover of the mess-chest and propped it
up. That was the table. Then he brought me a tin basin, and some flour,
some condensed milk, some sugar, and a rolling-pin, and then he hung a
camp-kettle with lard in it over the fire. I stirred up a mixture in
the basin, but the humiliation of failure was spared me, for just then,
without warning, came one of those terrific sandstorms which prevail
on the deserts of Arizona, blowing us all before it in its fury, and
filling everything with sand.

We all scurried to the tents; some of them had blown down. There was not
much shelter, but the storm was soon over, and we stood collecting
our scattered senses. I saw Mrs. Wilkins at the door of her tent. She
beckoned to me; I went over there, and she said: "Now, my dear, I am
going to give you some advice. You must not take it unkindly. I am an
old army woman and I have made many campaigns with the Colonel; you have
but just joined the army. You must never try to do any cooking at the
camp-fire. The soldiers are there for that work, and they know lots more
about it than any of us do."

"But, Jack," I began--

"Never mind Jack," said she; "he does not know as much as I do about it;
and when you reach your post," she added, "you can show him what you can
do in that line."

Bowen cleared away the sandy remains of the doubtful dough, and prepared