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By moonrise we were disposed in two Mexican rooms with cheesecloth ceilings but apparently quite clean--Tony had a couch in the outer quadrangle--Alfred shared my bed.
Mabel warned of bedbugs, "unless I was immune to them like Mary Foote." I assured her that I was and could sleep through a million of them that night.
There was no sign of any in Alfred's and my room. The Mexicans through whose bed-rooms we had to pass (being all on the ground floor, of course), while they were undressing, were now all asleep.
At 2 a.m. I was sleeping like a rock, when Mabel comes in and wakes me with "Johnson, how can you sleep?  I have not been asleep all night." "Is it bed bugs?" I asked feeling sorry for her, because lying awake all night is one of the most miserable sufferings, I think. "Yes, they just drop down on one from the ceiling--it was unmistakable--like fire all over one.  She was going to take her sleeping bag and blankets and lie in the yard."
"Can I help you?" I said, lighting the lantern, which stood by my bed, for her. "No, she would do it herself." I was asleep again soon. Before sunrise Alfred and I awoke with no bed bugs and began to talk, though not very loud.
"No fair talking in the morning", came in Mabel's voice--so we knew she had deposited herself right out of our window on the ground. We shut up like clams and soon all hands got up to cook breakfast in the Mexican kitchen full of flies.
Mabel and Tony made their coffee which I do not know how to do and which they did not want anyone to spoil, while Alfred went out to get milk. I toasted bread on the stove, patting it with a knife, "according to Cramer" I said. Mabel asked me if he were "one of those people that fuss around" and I said "No; but he is a very good cook. He could be a chef." She wished that "he would come to Taos and cook for her." (She finds it hard to get and keep a cook that she likes. Mrs. Alforo was likely to give up.) I said that Cramer usually cooked breakfast for Florence, his wife--and Mabel observed that "they often did that, Tony does for me." "What did you do about washing dishes on that camping trip?" I said that we did not wash them generally but rubbed them out with some paper napkins that Florence had put in, and earth immediately--each his own, or used grass--and then the frying pan was sterilized over the fire."
We found a halved watermelon inhabited by flies on the breakfast table from teh night before and let it remain under the napkin, eating the large honeydew that we had got and cleaned ourselves.--Then to the cars and down into the canyon of the Chana by the one track road along the winding wall into country that seemed very different and much wilder (perhaps largely because never seen before) than the surroundings of Taos.
We passed a small family with a team and wagon strewed by the road side where a bay in the cliff gave space for camping, taking a bite--and I think that was all, but we must horn a great deal because of the hairpin turns and plunges where passing is impossible and all view shut out by the wall of rock along the river.
Brick red earth appeared along a bank at the foot and then we got