I was forced to return, and
reached the river without any mishap, as it was a beautiful moonlight
night. I crossed the long bridge with anxiety, for it was a
primitive-looking structure, built on piles, and I had to step from
tie to tie, looking continually down at the swirling waters of the
great, muddy river. As I realized the possibility of meeting a train,
I crossed over it, running. At last I reached the opposite shore. It
was nearly dawn now, and I walked to the only house in sight, a long,
low building of logs and, being very tired, I sat down on the veranda
and soon fell asleep. It was not long after sunrise that a sinister,
evil-looking person, smelling vilely of rum, woke me up roughly and
asked me what I did there. When he learned that I was traveling to
New Mexico and had lost my way, he grew very polite and invited me
into the house.
We entered a spacious hall, which served as a dining-room, where
eight young ladies were busily engaged arranging tables and
furniture. The man intimated that he kept a hotel and begged the
young ladies to see to my comfort and bade me consider myself as
being at home. The girls were surprised and delighted to meet me and
overwhelmed me with questions.
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