We left Paraja and the river and valley at night after a good supper, having supplied ourselves with water enough for the trip, expecting to get breakfast at a place about half-way across, called the Alaman (Allemand) literally meaning "Dutchman" where it was reported a German had been found some years before, killed and scalped by Indians. There had been repeated efforts made to find water on this desert. General Pope when a young officer of the service had spent a large amount of government money digging for water. Finally a man by the name of Martin, a Scotchman, who furnished the meat supply at Fort Selden, was so persistent with the commanding officer in asserting his ability to find water, that he was furnished a body of soldiers as an escort and guard and commissary supplies for the undertaking. He had been working faithfully and persistently for some months. He had also put some adobe rooms and had them furnished, his hauling his water supply from a spring in a canon some six or eight miles away and had built an adobe wall around his camp. He had also put some adobe rooms and had them furnished, his wife being an important assistant in the undertaking, and he was still sinking his well deeper and expressing an abiding faith in the result. It must be a glorious feeling to be vindicated in such an undertaking. It was rumored along the overland route that Jack Martin had found water but not enough, and upon our arrival we found that he not only had water but had an abundance of it and our stage was the first to arrive after he struck it. After eating a late breakfast, which was a very good one, we started for Fort Selden still some fifty miles away. This part of the trip was uneventful as we only stopped once to feed and water the team, having carried the necessary supplies with us. We arrived at Fort Selden in the evening. All the way from Santa Fe down I frequently noticed little piles of stone by the wayside, sometimes with little hand-made wooden crosses standing up in the center marking the place where someone had met a violent death, maybe by Indians or maybe at the hands of some renegade Mexicans. It is the custom among the Mexican people in passing to toss another stone on the pile and in this way some of them became of considerable size, the size of the pile indicating in a way the time that had elapsed since the murder had been committed.