From Tucson, we retraced our steps to Maricopa Wells, reaching there again March 21st, _en route_ to Prescott; and here had every prospect of being detained a month or more, by the spring freshets in the Gila and Salado. While down at Tucson, there had been heavy rains, and a great melting of snows, on the mountains to the east; and the usually sluggish, half-dry rivers were now all alive, and booming. The Gila, especially, had overflowed its banks, and its whole valley below in many places was inundated. Ranch after ranch had been swept away, and in several instances the scant inhabitants had barely escaped with their lives, from its treacherous waters. The fine mesquite bottom at Gila Bend was reported four feet under water, and Mr. James' house, corral, etc. there--the finest we saw coming up the Gila--were all gone. The freshet was said to be the highest known there for years, and inflicted a loss on the Gila valley alone, it was alleged, of many thousands of dollars. The road was submerged or washed out in many places, and all travel to and from Yuma was interrupted for weeks, except such as could make its way around over the hills and mesas, by the old Indian trails. Col. Crittenden, with a column of three hundred men, _en route_ to Tucson and Southern Arizona, succeeded in getting through to Maricopa Wells in fifteen days, though we had made it in five. He was accompanied by his wife, a brave lady and true-hearted Kentuckian, who deserved and received much praise, for the long and arduous trip she was thus making, rather than separate from her gallant husband.