The stock was then turned
out to graze.
When coffee was poured, Private Tom Clary arose, and, holding up his
tin cup, said to his comrades:
"Here's a toast to be drunk standin', b'ys, and for many raysons,
which I think nade not be explained to this assimbly, I'm glad to
drink it in a decoction whose principal ingraydiant is wather. Here's
to Mr. Gray, whose conduct at Soldiers' Holes, at Date Creek, and on
the Walkerhelyer has won our admiration. May he niver lack for the
liquid he has so ginerously dispinsed, nor a soft hand to smooth his
last pillow, and plinty of masses for the repose of his sowl!"
Frank and Henry sprang towards the circle of soldiers, raised their
cups as Clary finished his sentiment, and joined in the hearty
response when he closed.
At one o'clock the animals were caught up, given the remainder of the
water and their portion of the corn, and got ready for the road. Once
up the slope Marr cracked his whip, the mules started into a trot, the
horses of the escort broke into a canter, and amid the cheerful
clatter of hoofs and the rattle of wheels we sped on our way as fresh
as if we were just leaving Fort Whipple.
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