Our goods were transferred from the
scows to the pack mule train. After everything had been safely lashed
upon their backs, our burros were brought and we all mounted astride.
It was well for us we were no strangers to riding. My youngest
brother was too small to ride, so a large native bamboo chair was
brought and strapped upon the back of a large native and in the chair,
safely tied in, sat the brother, as contented as a lord. He was such a
handsome child, mother did not want to have the native take him for
fear he would steal him, so she had the slave start first and she came
behind and rode with him in sight all the way, but she was
unnecessarily alarmed, for he was most faithful. The day before we
left for the steamer he came with an offering of fruit and nuts for
the boy and the madre and senoritas. Mother gave him an extra dollar
and he was greatly surprised and smilingly picked up brother and
carried him to the steamer and assisted us in every way until we were
safely transferred to the steamship Tennessee, Captain Totten,
commander. The ride on the burros over mountains, hills and dales was
an experience never to be forgotten. Slowly, step by step we wound
around the mountain trail. These burros had gone the road so many
years that their tiny hoofs had worn places in the rocks. All we had
to do was to sit tight in the saddle as we ascended or descended the
steep places. The pummel of the saddle was high and we held on to
that, and enjoyed the novelty of the situation.
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