In desperation I would creep out of bed and wait upon myself and then confess to Jack and the Doctor next day. Well, we had to let the creature go, for she was of no use, and the Spanish dictionary was laid aside. I struggled along, fighting against odds; how I ever got well at all is a wonder, when I think of all the sanitary precautions taken now-a-days with young mothers and babies. The Doctor was ordered away and another one came. I had no advice or help from any one. Calomel or quinine are the only medicines I remember taking myself or giving to my child. But to go back a little. The seventh day after the birth of the baby, a delegation of several squaws, wives of chiefs, came to pay me a formal visit. They brought me some finely woven baskets, and a beautiful pappoose-basket or cradle, such as they carry their own babies in. This was made of the lightest wood, and covered with the finest skin of fawn, tanned with birch bark by their own hands, and embroidered in blue beads; it was their best work. I admired it, and tried to express to them my thanks. These squaws took my baby (he was lying beside me on the bed), then, cooing and chuckling, they looked about the room, until they found a small pillow, which they laid into the basket-cradle, then put my baby in, drew the flaps together, and laced him into it; then stood it up, and laid it down, and laughed again in their gentle manner, and finally soothed him to sleep. I was quite touched by the friendliness of it all. They laid the cradle on the table and departed. Jack went out to bring Major Worth in, to see the pretty sight, and as the two entered the room, Jack pointed to the pappoose-basket. Major Worth tip-toed forward, and gazed into the cradle; he did not speak for some time; then, in his inimitable way, and half under his breath, he said, slowly, "Well, I'll be d--d!" This was all, but when he turned towards the bedside, and came and shook my hand, his eyes shone with a gentle and tender look. And so was the new recruit introduced to the Captain of Company K. And now there must be a bath-tub for the baby. The sutler rummaged his entire place, to find something that might do. At last, he sent me a freshly scoured tub, that looked as if it might, at no very remote date, have contained salt mackerel marked "A One." So then, every morning at nine o'clock, our little half-window was black with the heads of the curious squaws and bucks, trying to get a glimpse of the fair baby's bath. A wonderful performance, it appeared to them.