The Buried Burro. - December 6, 1854 - There is a hole in the ground nearly opposite our quarters where mud has been taken out for the purpose of making adobes, but at the present time it is full of snow and nearly level with the street. I looked out in that direction this forenoon, and saw a small pile of wood lying there neatly tied up with ropes, and could not imagine how it came there; but was soon let into the secret when a Mexican, just from the mountains, wrapped closely in a buffalo-robe, appeared and asked me very politely if I could lend him a spade for the purpose of digging out his "burro"! I asked, "Where is your burro/" "Aqui, senor," answered he, pointing to the wood-pile. I soon saw the reason of the wood being there, and furnished him with a spade and some assistance, and between us both we soon freed the poor donkey from his perilous situation, and started him on the road to the Plaza, where he will probably be relieved of his burden.

A Scout with Lieutenant Sturges. - January 14, 1855 (Galestio, daybreak). - A man came running into the quarters in Santa Fe' last night about nine o'clock, singing out to me at the very top of his voice to sound " Boots and saddles!" immediately. I at first though he was joking, but was soon hailed by the First Sergeant to do the same, and then we knew something was up, sure enough. Every man sprang for his saddle and his arms, expecting the trouble was somewhere in the city. We ascertained that a party of Mescalero Apaches had made a descent on a ranche owned by a man named Eaton, near the town of Galestio, about twenty miles from this city. The expressman says the Indians remained at the house several hours (Mr. Eaton being from home at the time), ransacked the house, and shamefully abused the inmates. Towards evening the herders returned with the stock, which the Indians seized and drove off, killing one man and mortally wounding another. Of the stock taken, seventy-five mules belonged to Mr. Beck, a merchant in Santa Fe'. We left Santa Fe' about ten o'clock last evening, and have traveled all night to get thus far. We intend to remain here at the ranche for about three hours, to rest and feed our horses, and then follow the Indians. We have met with very bad luck thus far; but the old saying of " A bad beginning makes a good end" may turn out true in our case. About twelve o'clock last night the pack-mule, on which we had provisions for eighteen men for four days got loose from the man who was leading him, and ran into the woods. The man followed him to catch him, and after doing so as we suppose, was unable to find us, there being no road or trail where we were travelling. As soon as the man and mule were missed, the First Sergeant started to look for him, and we believe that he has got lost also. I expect it is the last we will see of them until our return to Santa Fe', and there is no chance of getting anything to eat here. Still we are determined to follow on the trail without it, our force being now one officer and sixteen men of our detachment, four citizens, and four or five greasers, or wooden men, the latter portion of which I expect we might as well be without. Eight o'clock (evening) - We have followed the trail all day, and have stuck to it like an "advertisement to a town-pump," and have traveled with as much speed as possible. We passed a dead mule on the road to-day that had "given out." There is a large snow-bank just in front of our camp-fires, and we are using that for water, and our horses are doing the same. We intend to be in the saddle as soon as it is daylight. I will now take a bite of cold snow by way of snack, and off to bed.

Strong Canon, January 15, 1855 - We started this morning, as soon as we could see the trail, and have marched a distance (with all of our twisting about) of eighty miles, without food or water; still, we had a great deal of excitement on the route. About ten o'clock we came to the edge of the table-land on which we had been travelling all the morning, which overlooked a vast prairie about one hundred feet below us, extending further than the eye could reach, and not a tree or bush to be seen. The trail of the Indians struck a direction straight across this. It looked more to me like looking out to sea than anything else; still, we were determined to follow on, which we did with new vigor, knowing that if we came across the Indians on this plain we would stand a better chance of a victory over them than we would in the mountains. About one o'clock we had a very amusing charge after Indians that were not Indians. We spied at a distance of about eight miles some animals on a high roll of the prairie, which were pronounced by a citizen with us with a spy-glass, to be mules; and about three miles further on we saw a lake of water, and concluded the Indians were down in a hollow refreshing themselves while the mules were grazing. We immediately turned our horses in that direction, and ordered the Mexicans to keep the trail until they came around to where we were. We let our horses walk about an hour and a half, and then struck the gallop for about four miles, when the animals spoken of started off at a full run, and proved to be antelopes, in place of mules, which we could all see as soon as they turned their white sides to us. We thought it would be policy, as we had left the trail so far, to go a few miles further and water our horses. After arriving at the lake, it proved to be so salt that neither man nor beast could drink it. Before we go on the trail again, we had lost at least fifteen miles. When returning from the lake, and about five miles from it, an express came riding up to us from our Mexicans, and informed us they had seen three spies from the Indians standing on a hill about three miles distant from them, and about eight miles from where we then were. We quickened our pace as much as we dared to do, wishing to save our horses as much as possible; and after striking a trail and travelling about twelve miles, we came to a place where some Indians had been encamped for the last two or three days waiting for this thieving party to return. They had killed a pony and a mule here, and cut the meat from the bones, and had departed. We kept on moving until dark, and are now encamped in a very stony canon, where we have plenty of water, and where there is some scrub-oak in the vicinity, of which we have made a very good fire. One of the Mexicans has a little corn-meal with him on his horse, of which he has given us about a quart, and we are trying to make some gruel of it to stay our stomachs until something better turns up.

January 16, 1855 - Under a cedar-bush - " A day I shall be likely to remember some time." We started out again this morning as soon as we could see the trail, and hurried on as fast as possible, at the rate of about seven miles an hour, and one of the coldest mornings I ever experienced. We traveled about fifteen miles, and what should we see in front of us, about one and one-half miles distant, on the opposite side of a deep, stony canon full of tall pine-trees, but the mules we were in search of, just starting out of the Indian camp. The Indians had not got a sufficient distance from the woods yet to discover us, or probably they would not have left their hiding-places. We all immediately dismounted from our horses, pulled off our great-coats and gloves, and left them lying on the ground. We were forced to walk our horses through this canon. By the time we came out on the prairie on the other side the Indians were about a quarter of a mile from the wood. Our object now was to charge up between the two, to prevent the Indians from making their escape, which we succeeded in doing. When we got opposite the Indians we halted and faced towards them about one hundred yards distant. The Indians then all dismounted from their mules, and stood with their bows resting upon the ground; one had a gun, another a lance, and all were armed with bows and arrows. They at once commenced shouting "Mescalero!" and a lot of gibberish which we did not and were not supposed to understand. Still we knew that they were desirous of making peace; but that was not what we were sent there for. The Lieutenant said, " Well, men, I do not understand one word they are saying; haul off and let them have it, and look out for yourselves." The words were no sooner out of his mouth than bang! bang! Rang the musketoons and pistols, and the Indians began to jump and dance around like so many awkward crows. It was really amusing to see the many awkward shapes into which they would throw themselves to avoid our getting a dead aim at them; and in a measure they succeeded. They at last began making towards the wood, and then was our last chance at them. Our hands were so cold that we could not reload our pieces, and, as the shots that were in them were exhausted, were forced to draw our sabres and make a desperate charge, to prevent them entering the wood, where they could lie down between the rocks, and we could not harm them, as we were afraid to leave our horses, for fear they might be stampeded, not knowing but what there was another party concealed in the rocks. There was one very large Indian amongst them who seemed to be their leader and had the gun. I picked him for my man, as he was the nearest to me, and rode up to about twenty yards of him and gave him a shot from my revolver while he was in the act of firing an arrow at another man. My ball entered his thigh, and did not come out; he came down on one hand, but recovered again and started for the woods. I fired again and missed him; but just as I could see where the ball struck just behind him, one of my comrades shot him with his musketoon, and he fell dead (as I supposed) upon the ground. I had already fired five shots from my pistol, and consequently had but one more left. I saw another Indian making for the woods with no one after him, and I thought I could do no better with my last shot than to give him the loan of it. I at once gave "Old Boston" the spur, and started after him, passing within about three yards of the one I supposed to be dead, when the first thing I knew - bang! Went his gun, and the ball entered my right shoulder and near the centre. The ball passed clear through and came out in front, just touching the bone. I thought the fellow would die anyway without further assistance, and kept up the chase. I got up to about fifteen yards of the man I was after, and, he being straight in front of me, I raised my pistol and brought it down on a level for him, and was just ready to pull trigger when I found my hand kept falling, and that I had not sufficient strength in my arm to hold up the pistol, and was force to return it to the holster and ride out one side; still, I had the satisfaction of seeing a portion of his head cut off by a comrade of mine who was still in front of him. This was the man who had the lance. He ran at the man (Katon) with the lance, which was nocked off by the sabre, and the point entered his horse's breast, bud did not seriously injure him. At the same moment the Indian attempted to run under his horse to save himself from the sabre; but Katon was too quick for him, and took off nearly all one side of his head, just as he was in the act of stooping, and thus finished his mutton. I looked around to see how my particular friend was getting on, and what should he be doing but upon his feet again and loading his gun. I was not able to finish him myself, but there was another man now at hand who gave him a shot from a sharp-shooting rifle, which dropped him to rise no more. While this man was busy bandaging my arm, another man of our detachment, by the name of Rooney, came riding up, and says, "I am shot in the head"; but said it in such an unconcerned manner we did not think he was much hurt, and too but very little notice of him; but in about five minutes he fell from his horse, apparently dead. About this time the fight was over, and all hands assembled around to do what they could for the wounded. After examination, it was ascertained that Rooney had received a wound in his head from an arrow, the point of which, two and a half inches in length, was still buried in his head. It struck him directly over the right ear, and went through the skull-bone, with about one-eight of an inch of it sticking out. One of the Mexicans got hold of it with his teeth, and could not move it. Then one of the citizens, who was an old Santa Fe' trader, who had seen a great deal of Indian fighting, tried it with his bowie-knife, but could not succeed. It happened that one of our men, who is company saddler, had a pair of pliers in his holster, which just answered the purpose, and was the means of saving the man's life. We did not expect the man to live fifteen minutes, but we could not leave him here. The men took a number of their blankets and cut holes in them, through which they ran ropes, and made a kind of a litter between two mules; but the man was so raving it was impossible to keep him on it. The Lieutenant then offered any Mexican fifty dollars to take his body to Anton Chico, a distance of ninety-five miles, which was the nearest settlement. There was now no way to get him along, except to pack him across a saddle, with a Mexican to ride behind him and hold him on, which was done. All the Mexicans did during the fight was to catch up such of the mules as had the Indians' packs on them, and ransack the packs for plunder; but found nothing but mule-meat, which the Indians had killed yesterday. I never was so cold in my life, although every man who had a spare blanket had it around me and the other two wounded men. One of my comrades came up to me and made me a present of the scalp-lock of the Indian who shot me, which I am going to keep as long as possible, as I do not wish to forget my particular friends. We left the dead on the field. One we saw with his thigh broken, dragged into the woods by another wounded Indian. One we saw getting among the rocks with his leg broken, and another get into the rocks wounded, which made seven out of the nine who will never steal mules any more. It the Mexicans had discharged their pieces, we could probably have killed them all; but it seems that they went for plunder, and not to fight, for they brought back the same loads in their guns and pistols that they started away with. Lieutenant Sturges said just now that he reined in his horse and tried to reload his pistol, but could not tell by the feeling whether he had a bullet or a loaf of bread in his hand, and was forced to give it up and draw his sabre. It is now about nine o'clock at night, and we have just encamped in the woods without water, for the reason that we could not see to proceed further. The lieutenant has ordered the guard to take the greatest care of us to-night, and keep a good fire at our feet until morning. We have marched forty miles since we left water, which makes seventy miles for us to-day. My wound continues to bleed very freely, so much so that my clothes from my shoulder to my knees are completely glued to my skin. Rooney is still alive, which is more than we expected he would be when we left the water. The number of mules recaptured is seventy-five; value about four thousand dollars.

COPY OF A LETTER SENT BY THE EXPRESSMAN
Anton Chico, January 17, four P.M.

Major: We arrived this moment, and I start this express to inform you that we over-took the Indians (Mescaleros) on Tuesday morning about nine o'clock, about 175 miles south-east of Santa Fe'. We killed three (left on the field) and badly wounded four out of nine, and took all the animals back. In this little affair we had three men wounded (one badly), and Mr. Eaton slightly. The wounded are Corporal Katon (also his horse), Bugler Drown, and Pat Rooney. The latter is badly wounded, an arrow having gone two and a half inches into his head. The other are wounded in the right arm; Katon below the shoulder with an arrow, and Drown in the shoulder-joint (with ball). Rooney, remarkable as it may seem, still lives and is doing very well. We had him carried across the saddle, with a Mexican behind him for eighty miles. I will endeavor to-morrow to get him to San Miguel, and hope the doctor may be sent out to dress his as well as the others' wounds.

Respectfully, S.D. STURGES,
First lieutenant, etc.

Burying the Dead. - In Hospital, Santa Fe', January 30, 1855. - Poor Rooney was buried this afternoon at three P.M. He was of the Catholic persuasion, and the funeral service was performed in the Bishop's church, and he had a splendid funeral. Two priests came to the hospital and performed some service before proceeding to the church. The procession was formed in the following manner: 1^st, the firing party; 2d, the music, two priests, and their followers; 3d, the corpse; 4^th his horse; 5^th, the members of the detachment; 6^th, a detachment of Company G, Third Infantry; and nearly all the officers and a great many citizens brought up the rear. We marched directly for the Bishop's Church, into which the coffin was taken and set upon a pedestal prepared for the purpose. After the service had been performed in latin by the priests, one of them delivered a splendid address to the congregation in Spanish. He first excused himself by saying he did not understand enough of the English language to address us in it, but hoped we understood enough of the Spanish to enable us to keep the thread of the discourse. After speaking about half an hour in a very eloquent manner, the coffin was removed to the grave just at the corner of the church, where a short service was again performed, and , after the farewell salute was fired, the procession marched home. In digging the grave, I noticed that four skulls and many other bones of those who had gone before were disturbed and taken out with the dirt. The citizens pronounced it to be the most respectable funeral that ever crossed the Plaza of Santa Fe'.

House of Rich Ranchero - Imagine yourself led into a long room, the white walls of which for about four feet from the ground being covered with the most showy calico that can be purchased in the country (their method of paper-hanging), a lounge formed of the "calehones" (or beds), on which are placed many-colored serapes and pillows, on which a person may sit or recline at pleasure. The dirt floor is usually covered with "herga," a species of carpet. On one side of the room stands a table loaded with wine, fruits, etc., of the country. The walls are hung with execrable representations of saints, etc., in large, showy time frames, and Yankee looking-glasses ad infinitum. Suspended out of the reach of sacrilegious hands are crosses and saints cut from wood and dressed in the most fantastic style. It is considered a mark of great impoliteness to refuse an invitation to table when near dinner-hour. The table furniture generally consists of plates, forks, and spoons manufactured from native silver; and as the "plateras," or silversmiths are not the best of workmen, they are heavy and clumsily made. The glass decanters, brought from Chihuahua and Durango, are filled with wine of native manufacture. In the centre of the table, on a white napkin, is a pile of white bread cut up small and within reach of every person sitting at the table. Every dish is brought upon the table separately, but invariably accompanied by the everlasting Chili and Cibolla. The repast generally winds up with a mixture of Chili and dried buffalo-meat, pounded up fine, which is eaten with a spoon

Re-Enlisting. - Chicago, March 16, 1857

- Being out of employment, and not being able to get paid for the work I have done for the last two months, I came to the conclusion, this morning, the best thing I could do was to enlist in the United States Army, which I did at ten o'clock this forenoon, at the corner of North Clark and Indiana Streets. Was enlisted by Second Lieutenant Thomas High, Second Regiment United States Dragoons. After going through the necessary operation of being examined by the doctor appointed for this duty, and getting sworn in, I came back to rendezvous, and now consider myself once more a soldier