August 21, 1864: Chiquito Creek
[This] morning, August 21, Sunday, we started.
We had a terribly rough way at first, but finally struck some cattle trails, and, at length, the first dawn of returning civilization. We found two men camped under a tree, watching cattle which they had driven up from the plains….we got word of Orr, who ha[d] passed several days ago….We rode twenty-three miles and then camped at the altitude of about eight thousand feet. Hoffmann had grown so much worse that by night he had to be lifted from his horse and could not walk a step. It had been cloudy all day, and soon after dark a cold rain set in and it rained hard all night. There is no need of again describing the discomforts and miseries of sleeping on the ground in a cold, rainy night, when the rheumatism creeps into every nook and joint of one’s frame. It was hard on poor Hoffmann. It is bad enough for a well man, but for a sick man, racked with pain, tired from the day’s riding, feeble, weak, and used up, it is hard, indeed.