78 



OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 



of my memories are some mental pictures of Maestro, which, 

 while I live, I can never manage to forget. 



I often shut my eyes and see him with streaming eyes 

 stirring some fearful concoction over the httle stove; or again 

 on his knees mixing dough for the leaden dumplings to be 

 boiled in the pig-tail stew which appeared at every meal. We 

 so often wished we had brought graham flour. White flour 

 does show the dirt so! Still another picture is Maestro 



Fio. 42 Captain Truxillo paddling us up the Go ar apiche 

 PAST Cano Colorado. 



washing the table-cloth. This was a piece of oilcloth, origi- 

 nally white, and Maestro's method of washing it was to spread 

 it on the deck, pour water over it, dance upon it in his bare 

 feet, to the accompaniment of some weird chant, and finally 

 hang it on the rail to dry ! No doubt after this proceeding he 

 felt as self satisfied as the most pompous and well-trained 

 English butler. 

 In justice, I must say that Maestro did make one or two 



