After the soldiers had become a mere blur in the distance we resumed our journey. We had gone but a few miles farther, however, when an accident occurred to our wagon. Something gave way--I don’t remember what--and it became impossible to proceed. Levy took a look at the wagon and declared it was “no good, anyway”; Bates joined in the abuse, and McGill lost his temper. Finally, I acted as peacemaker, and suggested that something would have to be done as the afternoon was advancing. Either we must return to Bonita on foot, abandoning the wagon and contents, or McGill would have to take the team back and secure another conveyance. The last alternative being accepted, we drew lots, and it fell to Levy to return to Bonita with McGill, while Bates and I remained to look after the property. McGill insisted that with the load off he would be able to haul the wagon back to Bonita for repairs, so we set to work and, after a struggle with the trunks, got the vehicle in shape to be drawn. It was with great misgivings that I saw my companions depart. It was not to my liking to remain as a guardian of that mass of luggage. Bates did not seem to mind it. He simply offered me his last cigar, then lighted it himself and sat down on the bare ground. I think we could see in every direction for twenty miles and more, except toward the mountains, which were to the east, some five miles distant. “Well, Bates,” I said, “what are we going to do? It’s getting mighty cold. The wind sweeps down from that mountain as if we might get a little of the storm brewing up there.” “That’s no mistake, my boy, and if I am not in error we are going to get snow inside of two hours. Most extraordinary for Arizona.” “Don’t you think we could arrange some shelter with these trunks and roll of canvas?” “Just the thing, my boy. Glad you suggested it.” So we set to work and built our house, forming our walls by arranging the trunks in a square, leaving a small opening to be used as a door. On this we spread the great piece of canvas which had been brought along to cover the wagon in case of storm, thus making a roof. That it might not be carried away by the wind, which was now howling like a hurricane, we weighted it with small boulders. With other rocks we built a small fireplace and chimney, without and facing our door. With the limited supply of wood, which was very scarce--sagebrush and gnarled mesquite--we built a small fire in our fireplace, much to our joy, for we were now actually blue with the cold. The sky was now thoroughly overcast with snow-clouds and the snow was beginning to fall, settling in miniature drifts beneath the sage bushes. In removing the trunks from the wagon our labours had been heavy, and we realized, as Bates expressed it, “we were twenty miles from nowhere, and not a drop of water nearer than Bonita.”