Summary

W. W. Mills Forty Years at El Paso, 1858-1898

I remember a friend, Johnnie Evans, saying to me once, when I was so thoughtless as to start down street without one: “Buckle it on, Mills; we don’t often need ’em, but when we do need ’em, we need ’em—Oh, God!” Every man’s horse, or team, and arms were the best his purse could buy, and my white saddle horse, that carried me for ten years, was surely a dandy. Sometimes, when I have journeyed to Las Cruces or Mesilla, fifty miles, in my buggy, I have turned this animal loose, saddled and bridled, and he has followed me the whole distance, as a dog follows his master.
Source: Gutenberg

W. W. Mills Forty Years at El Paso, 1858-1898

To the traveler, who had spent weeks crossing the dry and desert plains, this valley, with the grateful humidity of the atmosphere, the refreshing verdure, the perfume of the flowering shrubs, the rustling of the leaves of the cottonwood trees, and their cool shade, and in the spring or summer, the bloom of the many fruit trees, or the waving of grain fields, were all like a sight or breath of the Promised Land!
The people, the peasantry, were content and happy. To them, with their simple wants, it was a land of plenty. The failure of water in the Rio Grande has sadly changed all this.
Source: Gutenberg

W. W. Mills Forty Years at El Paso, 1858-1898

Daily, whom I had known well at El Paso, was at the time wagonmaster in charge of Ochoa’s train, and in camp near the post. He was an old frontiersman, an Indian fighter, and had often been employed as a guide by United States army officers. I knew that he was a Southerner, but I knew that when a man of that class took the Union side he could be trusted, and I knew that he possessed every other qualification for the dangerous service.
Source: Gutenberg

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature