ESTABLISHING FORT LOOKOUT, 1856-1857.
Companies B and D left Fort Pierre the first week in June, 1856, on
their way to the site upon which Fort Lookout was to be built. Captain
Nathaniel Lyon of Company B, being the ranking officer, was in
command. Captain Gardner of my company and three lieutenants were the
only other officers present. The details of this march, although a
short one, will serve, except as to special incidents, as a
description of all other marches that we made on the prairies.
We ascended the hills west of Fort Pierre to gain the higher tableland
in order to avoid the many ravines and small creeks that flowed into
the Missouri river, which we did not sight again until we reached our
destination. The order of march for large or small columns of troops
was as follows: First came the guides, either Indians, half-breeds or
hunters, riding on ponies some distance in advance and sometimes going
ahead for miles to search for a suitable point to ford a stream or
locate a camp. When no guides were present the desired direction was
kept by means of a compass, for there were no roads, nothing but an
occasional trail, made by Indian travoys which the weather soon
obliterated. At times there was not a hill, tree nor bush in sight.
Only flat or rolling prairie land met the eye all day long, and it was
easy to lose direction on a cloudy day without a compass. Officers in
command of troops marching through an unknown country were obliged to
keep a journal and draw rough maps of the route, showing the water
courses, springs, hills, woods, camping places and all points worthy
of notice, also the approximate distances between them. These journals
and maps were afterwards forwarded to the War Department, to serve for
future information.
After the guides, our small column was led by Captains Lyon and
Gardner and one of the lieutenants, another lieutenant was in the rear
of the column, and the acting quartermaster was with the wagon train.
All of the officers were mounted, some at their own expense on ponies
they had bought from the Indians, as in an infantry regiment the
regulations only allowed horses and forage for the colonel, major,
surgeon, adjutant and quartermaster, or for officers temporarily
acting as such. For a year or more we had no medical officer, only a
hospital steward. There was but little sickness, and we got along very
well without a doctor. Following the leading officers, came the
musicians, and we boys were rather proud to be able to set the pace
for the entire column. Behind us marched the soldiers by fours at a
route step carrying their arms "at will." The company in advance
to-day was the rear company to-morrow. Following the soldiers was the
wagon train and behind that marched the camp guard, bringing up the
rear. We never carried any knapsacks on this kind of marches on the
frontiers. We always had wagons enough to carry the tents, knapsacks,
provisions and forage. Each soldier carried his arms and
accoutrements, his canteen and his haversack, which contained only
enough provisions for a noon-day meal. The musicians carried only a
sword, canteen and haversack.
The speed at which we marched was generally about three miles per
hour, or less, if the route was hilly or the marching difficult. About
every five miles we halted for a rest of fifteen or twenty minutes
with a somewhat longer rest in the middle of the day. The distance we
marched each day averaged less than twenty miles, but it was
irregular, for camping places had to be selected with an eye to
obtaining wood and water. Some days we marched only about fifteen
miles while on others we had to make more than twenty-five. On a few
occasions we camped on the prairie, where there was neither wood nor
water. We brought a scant supply with us in our wagons from the
previous camp. Buffalo chips (dung) were sometimes used instead of
wood and made a sufficiently hot fire to cook with.
The army wagons had canvas covers and looked something like the
"Prairie Schooners" used by the emigrants in crossing the plains.
There was a seat and a locker across the front and a detachable
feed-box across the rear. They were provided with strong brakes. A
team of six mules was hitched to each wagon, the pair in front were
called "leaders," and were the smallest mules in the team, next came
the "swings," a little larger and last the "wheelers," which were the
largest and strongest mules of the lot. One of the wheel mules had a
saddle on him on which the driver was mounted, who, with only a single
line and the aid of a long whip, drove the team.
The drivers were generally citizen employees of the Quartermaster's
Department, if they could be had, or soldiers who volunteered for the
job. These were detailed on "extra duty," as it was called.
Twenty-five cents per day from the quartermaster was added to their
regular monthly pay, for which they were obliged to sign a roll. One
of them wrote Thomas O'Brien, M.D., and when asked to explain the
meaning of the two letters after his name, said they stood for mule
driver. It was hard work driving mule teams where there were no roads.
Steep hills and deep declivities, streams and water courses, soon made
most of the drivers experts in profanity. They had names for all their
mules, and we often heard one of them urging his team through a bad
place with such words of encouragement as these: "Now, Mary Jane! pull
like a good girl; pull, girl!" or "You, there, Pete! you black-hearted
----, I'll cut the hide off you, if you don't pull!"
On marches, reveille was sounded at day-break or even earlier if there
was a long day's march ahead. Immediately after roll call we had our
breakfast of salt pork or bacon, hard-tack and black coffee, which the
company cooks had already prepared at their camp fire. Then the
"General" was beaten by one of the drummers. This was the signal to
"strike tents" and pack the wagons. Soon after sunrise we formed ranks
and marched off. This was the time when we felt fresh after a good
night's rest. There was talking, laughing and joking in the ranks.
Sometimes a song was started and many joined in the chorus.
After about two hours of marching this exhilaration gradually died
down and when the sun got high and began to scorch us--for it could be
as hot in the summer on the plains as it was cold in winter--the
voices were stilled. We trudged on noiselessly save for the rattling
of the tin cups and canteens or the sharp rebuke of one soldier to
another, who had perhaps jostled him, which was always annoying to a
weary man.
The officers also enjoyed the cool of the morning. After the column
had marched a while, I was often called by one of them to ride his
horse, while he marched four or five miles. I would very much have
preferred this ride at the end of the march when I would have enjoyed
the rest. But I was always a good marcher and sometimes, when I felt
like falling out, my pride kept me up until we reached camp.
The first day's march revealed the presence of a flat-footed man in
the command who could not march more than a few miles, after which he
had to ride in one of the wagons. He was discharged as soon as
transportation to the settlement could be had. Sick or exhausted
soldiers were permitted to ride in the wagons.
So fiercely did the rays of the sun beat down on the hot prairie, that
during our brief periods of rest, we often crawled under the wagons,
grateful for their slight shade even for a short time. If we came to a
stream that could be forded we took off our shoes and stockings and
sometimes our trousers, and waded across. If the current was strong we
grasped each other to avoid being swept off our feet. On the opposite
side we generally halted long enough to refill our canteens and rest.
At times we had to cross a river too deep for fording. Then the
crossing meant several days of hard labor. It was accomplished by
taking the wagons apart and making boats out of their bodies. This was
done by enveloping the wagon bodies in several thicknesses of the
canvas wagon covers. When the crude boats would float, some men swam
across pulling a stout rope after them. They secured it on the other
side to guide the boats in crossing. In this way we established
ferries capable of taking all the men and freight to the other side.
The horses and mules were forced to swim over. A few minor accidents
occurred, but in the main the crossing was successfully although
slowly made, as these canvas pontoon boats could carry but little at
each trip.
On a few occasions we saw a herd of buffalo while on the march, but
never got near them. We seldom met any Indians on the routes we
traveled.
When we had a short day's march, we got into camp before noontime if
the route had been favorable, but if we had to march twenty-five miles
or more, it was the middle of the afternoon or much later before we
finally halted. The first thing we did was to stack arms and lie down
in the shade, if there was any. Tired out, we went to sleep while
waiting for the wagons to come up. At the end of the day's march they
were often some miles behind. They could not always make the short
cuts that we could. When the wagons arrived we unpacked them and
erected our tents. Practice made us experts at this. The cooks started
a fire and prepared a meal, while the teamsters parked the wagons,
unhitched the tired mules, watered and fed them, and then picketed
them on the prairie to graze and rest.
The officers had wall-tents for their use, with a tent fly over them,
which made them quite comfortable and cool when the sides were turned
up. The soldiers had "Sibley" tents at that time, which were better
than the small "A" tents previously used. These tents were the
invention of Col. Henry W. Sibley of the United States Army. They were
patterned after the Indian teepee, but differed from them in that but
one tent pole was required. This fitted into the socket of a wrought
iron tripod in the centre of the tent and upheld the shelter. A hood
on top could be opened to emit the smoke from a sheet iron stove in
cold weather. These tents, conical in shape, were large enough to
shelter a dozen men without crowding.
When the tents had all been set up in "streets," we fished or went in
bathing if the water was suitable. Fish were generally plentiful and
were a welcome addition to our rations. At times we washed our
clothing in the streams, for the laundresses did not perform that work
on a march and were never with the troops except when changing
stations. On these occasions they and their children rode in the
wagons.
Our canteens were made of tin covered with felt, and held about three
pints. An old soldier taught me to fill my canteen with water in the
evening, saturating the felt covering thoroughly. By hanging it up
exposed to the air during the night, the water would be kept cool
until morning. Next day I was careful to keep the canteen on my shady
side while marching. In this way I had a cool drink for a much longer
time. Sentinels were posted about the camp and the wagons at night. We
had an early tattoo and slept soundly until daybreak next morning.
Rainy days added much to our discomfort while marching and made it
necessary to make camp on soaked ground while our clothing was
drenched.
We had half a dozen dogs with us on the march to Lookout, for dogs
love soldiers. In the cool part of the morning they ran all over the
prairie chasing birds or prairie dogs, and tired themselves out before
the march was half done. When we halted for a rest they went to sleep,
and it was difficult to make them go on again, except one wise dog who
always trotted at the head of the column with the musicians and never
wasted his energy in running around the prairie. At times these dogs
became a nuisance. They sometimes got to a small pond or water-hole
ahead of us, and by swimming around in it roiled the water until it
was unfit to drink.
Our last day's march was long and hard, but we cheered up when in the
middle of the hot afternoon we sighted the Missouri River about five
miles away. It was hundreds of feet below us, for we were up on a high
range of hills, which the wagons were able to descend only by making
long detours.
We encamped on a shady spot near the river bank and remained there for
two days while Captain Lyon and another officer explored the region
for the most suitable place for the new post. Captain Lyon finally
selected a spot three miles below our camp and thirty miles south of
the Big Bend of the Missouri River. We moved there at once and
encamped until our quarters were completed in the fall.
The site for Fort Lookout was well chosen. The river channel was on
that side and the banks high enough not to be overflowed. The wooded
bottom land extended two hundred yards back from the river, then
ascended fifty feet above the water in an easy grade to a plateau. Two
small water courses in ravines at right angles to the river and about
half-a-mile apart drained the plateau on which the post was to be
built. About a mile west of the river the land became rugged and
hilly. There were plenty of woods in sight along the river bank as far
as we could see.
Captain Nathaniel Lyon of Company B, Second United States Infantry,
the commanding officer under whose direction Fort Lookout was to be
built, was a native of Connecticut. He was of average size with sandy
hair and beard. His voice had a distinct nasal twang. He was a
graduate of West Point and had served in the Mexican War and in
Florida. He was a strict disciplinarian, conscientious, patriotic and
as strong an "Abolitionist" as Captain Gardner of my company was a
"Pro-Slavery" advocate. Nevertheless the two captains seemed to get
along very well on duty, but outside of that did not associate much.
Captain Gardner usually had his tent put up at some distance from
Captain Lyon's, who kept very much to himself and seemed to pass his
time in reading and writing.
Captain Lyon was of a most peculiar temperament. While he preserved a
fatherly attitude toward his company and saw to their comfort, he was
very exacting. The least infringement of rules, which other officers
would not notice, he would punish. He seldom put any of his men in the
guard-house, except for some serious offense; but punished them by
making them do menial duties or by having them march in front of the
company quarters where he could observe them, carrying a log or a
heavily loaded knapsack or with a barrel over their shoulders, the
head sticking out of the top. He had punishments to fit every grade of
offense, most of which were of his own invention. However, he seldom
court-martialed any of his men, though some of them would have
preferred that to the humiliating punishments they received. When the
war broke out, Captain Lyon was in command of the arsenal at St.
Louis, Mo., which he saved to the Government. He broke up the rebel
"Camp Jackson" under General Frost, defeated the troops under Governor
Jackson at Booneville and fought the battle of Wilson's Creek, Mo.,
against superior numbers under Generals McCulloch and Price. He was
killed in that battle on August tenth, 1861, while he was in command
of the Union troops with the rank of brigadier-general. General Lyon
did much to save the State of Missouri to the Union and in his early
death, the Government lost a loyal and efficient officer. One of the
last requests that General Lyon made just before his death was that
"First Sergt. Griffin of his old company which was present at the
battle should receive a commission as Lieutenant,"--which was granted.
As soon as our camp was permanently established at the top of the
slope leading towards the river, we prepared to erect the necessary
buildings. Gangs of men were sent into the woods to cut trees, trim
them and haul in the logs.
Others were set to work making bricks for the chimneys and bake ovens
out of some suitable clay and sand that had been discovered near the
river bank. The bricks were made in moulds and burnt in the usual way.
They answered their purpose very well. Every man not required for
guard duty was set to work either as a mechanic or a laborer at "extra
duty". Carpenters, framers, masons and all other mechanics received
forty cents per day and the laborers twenty-five cents per day, extra
pay for ten hours' work. The mechanics remained at their work, but the
laborers took turns at guard duties. I was put on extra duty myself
for a while as a time-keeper and messenger and was rated and paid as a
laborer.
Presently the raft which had been made up at Fort Pierre arrived and
was unloaded and taken apart. About the first of July a steamboat came
in with a full cargo for Fort Lookout, consisting of military stores
and some building materials, such as doors, sashes, hardware,
shingles, lime, etc. She also landed three citizen employees, a
master-mechanic to take charge of construction and two carpenters.
There were in addition some goods for the sutler, who came to
establish himself. A cow and some hogs were put ashore consigned to
Captain Lyon. To put this cargo in a suitable place on shore and
protect it from the elements until store houses could be built,
occupied some time. A small herd of beef cattle also arrived, having
been driven up from the settlements.
One of the first things the master-mechanic did was to erect a
whip-saw for getting out flooring and roofing boards. This saw was
worked by two men, one above and the other below the elevated log. It
was slow, laborious work. He next made a plan for quarters for three
companies, for another company was to join us later in the season. He
directed the carpenters and framers to hew the logs square and cut
them into suitable lengths to form the walls of the houses, which were
built large enough to hold a company apiece comfortably. They had the
luxury of doors, windows and brick chimneys, a wooden floor and a
shingled roof, but no ceiling. Log houses were built for the married
soldiers, for company kitchens, a hospital, a bakery, the adjutant's
office, the guard-house and storehouses, but they were put up to be
warm and comfortable and had brick fire places, doors and windows,
wood floors and shingled roofs, the same as the quarters. For the
officers the portable houses rafted down from Fort Pierre were
re-erected, but made much stronger. The exterior walls were double
with a filled space between them, which made them warmer. Chimneys and
fireplaces were built. We built no company mess-rooms, leaving that to
be done next year as we already had undertaken all we could possibly
accomplish before cold weather.
Captain Lyon was quite busy for a time in outlining the post and
locating the various buildings. He seemed very anxious about getting
the post lined exact and true to the cardinal points, which he found a
difficult task in the absence of proper instruments. He had a factotum
named Charley Breen who was his valet, cook, hostler and assistant
surveyor. When the captain went out on several nights to observe the
north star for hours, he always took Charley who carried a lantern.
Next day the lines were changed again. We had many a laugh with
Charley about hunting for the north star with a lantern.
Captain Lyon laid out Fort Lookout in generous dimensions. Perhaps he
had orders to do so. He occupied ground enough for about two
regiments, the parade ground was large enough to manoeuvre a brigade
of troops. The plan was a parallelogram in shape except at the west
end where the officers' houses formed a semicircle. The east end near
the river was square and there were located the guard-house and store
houses.
On the long sides were the company quarters, two on the south and one
on the north side. They looked very lonely in that vast space. It was
much more than a quarter mile from the guard-house on the east to the
officers' quarters in the west, and nearly half that across the parade
ground between the company quarters from north to south. These great
distances proved to be very inconvenient in winter, when the snow was
deep and much time had to be consumed in relieving the widely
scattered sentinels.
Uninterrupted progress was made all through the summer. We had no
trouble with the Indians, in fact none came near us until fall, when
they began to appear and dance for rations. The only soldiers who were
absent from the fort were a small escort under a non-commissioned
officer with Lieutenant Warren and his party who were surveying and
mapping some of the Dakota country. They approached within a few
hundred miles of the place where the National Yellowstone Park is now
located, but did not seem to have ever heard of that wonderful region.
It appeared to be unknown at that time. We never heard hunters or
trappers speak of it, and if the Indians knew of it, they kept their
knowledge to themselves.
A comet was visible for many weeks during the summer, larger and more
brilliant and with a longer tail than any I have seen since.
Unfortunately we had no opportunity to learn in what way the Indians
regarded this phenomenon.
In the month of August, Company K arrived from Fort Ripley after a
strenuous march. They crossed the Missouri at Fort Pierre in Mackinaw
boats and from there came down the west bank to Fort Lookout. This
company was much harassed by the Chippawa Indians, while marching
through their country, though no direct attack was made. One soldier
was stabbed to death by an Indian at a spring near one of their camps,
where he had gone alone to fill his canteen. A sad accident occurred
on this march. One sentinel shot another dead, mistaking him for an
Indian because of his wearing a blanket on a cool night while on post.
Company K brought two Indian guides and their squaws with them; also
an interpreter and his squaw. This interpreter proved to be the young
man from my company who had deserted from Cantonment Miller about
sixteen months before to join the Indians. Why he took the risk to
come back in our direction I cannot imagine, unless he was misinformed
at Fort Pierre in regard to the whereabouts of his old company. He was
much changed, but was recognized in spite of his Indian make-up. He
was arrested and put in the guard-house, which at this time was a tent
from which he escaped easily on the second night, and we never heard
of him again.
Brevet Major George W. Patten, whom I have previously described, was
in command of Company K. He wrote an able article about the march from
Fort Ripley, which was published in Harper's Magazine. As Major Patten
ranked Captain Lyon, he took command of Fort Lookout on his arrival,
but Captain Lyon continued to superintend the building of the post.
During the summer Capt. Lyon got an idea that some other drink besides
the Missouri river water would be good for the men, and he started in
to make what he intended to be spruce beer. He put us boys to work
gathering cactus plants, wild hops, sprigs of spruce and a few other
plants of his own selection. Then he made us mash the cactus to a pulp
and boil the entire mixture in camp kettles, adding water, some
molasses and vinegar. We then strained it and put it into barrels.
Under the Captain's supervision it took us a week to make three or
four barrels, for, according to his habit, he fussed and spent as much
of his time over it as he would have given to an important matter.
When this hodge-podge was brewed it was offered to the soldiers. One
drink was enough to satisfy most of them. If they took any more they
were likely to be unfit for duty next day, but not from any
intoxicating qualities of the mixture. When it began to ferment it
threw off such a sickening odor and tasted so vile that no one would
drink it. Cactus was plentiful in the vicinity. Some of it bore
delicious and succulent prickly-pears. Wild plums and grapes were also
plentiful.
One night we were startled by the sound of a shot that came from the
direction of Post No. 3, a short distance from camp. There were cries
of "Corporal of the guard, Post No. 3!" and for a few moments there
was great excitement.
It turned out that the sentinel on that post had shot off the little
finger of his left hand. He explained that he was carrying his rifle
across the back of his neck, with the left hand over the muzzle and
the right on the lock "when the durned thing went off."
We suspected that he did it on purpose, hoping to get his discharge
from the army for physical disability. If so, he was not liberal
enough with his self mutilation, for the sacrifice of his little
finger did not procure his discharge.
Near the end of summer another steamboat on the way to Fort Pierre
stopped and unloaded some more stores, including a quantity of
potatoes, onions and turnips to prevent a reoccurrence of scurvy. This
steamer also brought a second lieutenant to join one of our companies.
He was one of the appointees from civil life--the only one at the
post. He hailed from one of the southern states and, for a soldier,
was the most ungainly, awkward and unmilitary figure that I ever saw.
He was a young man, so excessively tall that he stooped over and so
thin that he barely cast a shadow. He had a glass eye that had a
roving disposition. It gave him a very droll appearance. He was quite
ignorant of military matters and at his first appearance on parade as
officer of the day appeared wearing his sash over the wrong shoulder.
Major Patten appointed him Post Adjutant shortly after his arrival, in
derision, I think.
At guard mounting he had to be coached by the acting sergeant major,
or the officer of the day. When it came to that part of the ceremony
where the adjutant turns "About face" and reports to the officer of
the day "Sir, the guard is formed!" he nearly fell over himself with
his sword scabbard between his legs. He never learned to make an
"About face" gracefully. It was very difficult to repress our
laughter. With all this, he was arrogant, domineering and conceited,
and was thoroughly detested by his company.
When on duty as officer of the day he visited the sentinels on post,
demanded their orders and received the customary reply: "To take
charge of this post and all Government property in view, to salute all
officers according to rank, to allow no one to pass or repass at night
without the countersign, in case of fire to give an alarm," etc., etc.
Then he would torment the soldier with such absurd questions as: "What
would you do if you saw a steamboat coming down over the hills, or a
thousand Indians mounted on buffaloes charging out of the woods?"
One of the sentinels answered him, "I would call for the corporal of
the guard to notify you immediately."
Whoever was responsible for his obtaining a commission in the Army had
much to answer for. He resigned after a few years and disappeared from
our sight and knowledge.
In October we were able to occupy our new quarters which appeared
palatial to us in comparison with the wretched hovels in which we
lived the previous winter. We had worked hard to accomplish this.
About this time a singular affliction came upon nearly one-half of the
garrison, which we called moon-blindness. Every evening after twilight
they began to lose their vision, and when it became dark they could
only distinguish a bright light if very close to them. They had to be
led around like blind men. In the morning they could see as well as
ever. This lasted about a fortnight, and made it hard for the
unafflicted who had to do double guard duty. No one seemed to know the
cause of this blindness. Some had an idea that the comet was
responsible for it. I was one of the fortunate who escaped this
affliction.
Small parties of Indians began to visit us; and about a dozen lodges
established themselves in a permanent camp for the winter, but at an
inconvenient distance from the fort. It was necessary to cross a deep
ravine or make a long detour to get there.
An English sportsman, Sir St. George Gore, stopped for a day to visit
the officers. He had been hunting along the upper Missouri and
Yellowstone River for two years and was now on his way home. He had
come with a crew on a large Mackinaw boat, loaded with furs and other
hunting trophies.
Immense quantities of wild ducks and geese were now flying south. We
managed to kill quite a number with our military rifles, loaded with
shot which we made ourselves by pouring a ladle full of melted lead
from an elevated position slowly into a pail of water placed on the
ground. This produced shot of various sizes which we assorted, using
the smaller shot for blackbirds which were abundant. This homemade
shot was all egg-shaped instead of globular. It seemed to be effective
enough when fired into large flocks.
As soon as steady frost appeared all of our beef cattle were killed
and dressed. Profiting by our sad experience of the last winter this
was done while they were still in good condition and the meat placed
in a store house for use during the winter. Soon there was a deep fall
of snow which remained and increased throughout the winter. A space
was kept cleared of snow on the vast parade ground with paths leading
to it from the officers' and company quarters, for the purpose of
holding the daily guard mounting. Spaces were cleared around the
quarters and the snow piled up until the buildings were half hidden. I
think the winter was fully as cold as the previous one; but we had an
abundant quantity of seasoned firewood, which we burnt in stoves and
were comfortably warm, except on days when there was a high wind. When
the thermometer fell to twenty degrees below zero, orders were issued
to call in all the sentinels, except Post No. 1 in front of the
guard-house, and No. 2, at the store houses close by, and even these
posts were relieved every half hour. Our food was more abundant and
much better than at Cantonment Miller the previous winter. There was
no re-appearance of scurvy and we had plenty of warm clothing.
Captain Lyon, who had imported some hogs, presented them to his
company to be killed as a Christmas treat of fresh pork. The captain
sometimes visited the pen and gave directions for their care. A sow
had a litter of pigs in the fall, and fearing that she might kill
them, he directed his first sergeant to have her watched for a few
days. The Sergeant detailed some men for this purpose, among them a
young German, who, considering this a very unmilitary duty, refused to
serve, saying "To h---- mit der piggins, I'm no swiney doctor!"
There was very little sickness during the winter, but a number of
cases of frost bites, none of them very serious. One death occurred
during the midwinter in our little hospital, that of Sergeant Fiske of
my company who was a veteran of the Mexican War, and had suffered for
a long time from a malady to which soldiers long in the service are
liable. Sergeant Fiske was an inveterate card player and smoker. On
the evening of the night on which he died he sat cross legged on his
bed and played his favorite game with some of the other hospital
inmates. When he was placed in his coffin, some of his comrades
slipped in a pack of cards and his pipe to be buried with him, Indian
fashion. With great labor a grave was dug through the deeply frozen
ground. On the top of a hill near the fort, we buried Sergeant Fiske
with military honors, Lieutenant George H. Paige reading the burial
service. A board was put up to mark the lonely grave; but in that
bleak spot it probably remained only a short time before the weather
obliterated all signs of it.
During this winter I saw but little of the Indians. There were only a
small number in camp near the fort, and no others arrived. During the
long winter evenings we played games or read the few books, magazines
and occasional newspapers that we could procure. A mail from the
"States" arrived but twice a month, and life at the post was
monotonous.
At Christmas and on New Years' day an extra dinner was served for all
the soldiers, with a dessert of pie made with dried apples by the
company's baker. Whiskey punch was also provided. There was no chance
for the soldiers to procure whiskey at Fort Lookout unless one of the
officers gave them a drink of it, which happened rarely. This drove
some of them who had a craving for it, to use essence of Jamaica
ginger and bay-rum which they could buy at the sutler's store. They
sometimes made a punch of it by adding sugar and hot water. The sutler
had some imported ale and porter, which he was allowed to sell to
soldiers; but as the price was seventy-five cents a pint bottle, very
little of it was consumed.
In April, when the snow had melted, we began to drill again for the
first time since leaving Carlisle Barracks. We had lived more like
pioneers than soldiers. Early in May orders were received to abandon
Fort Lookout, where we had worked so hard to build quarters, and to
proceed to Fort Randall, where the regimental headquarters and four
companies had gone when Fort Pierre was abandoned a year ago. We went
into camp and began to tear down the company quarters for they were
built of hewn timber, which it was desirable to save. We also took
down the officers' houses. All this material was hauled down to the
river bank to be made into a raft, and floated down to Fort Randall.
We left all of the log cabins and the brick chimneys standing but
removed the doors and sashes. Early in June a steamboat which had
discharged her cargo at Fort Randall arrived at Fort Lookout and took
on board the three companies and all of the commissary and
quartermaster stores and other moveable property. The wagons and mules
were sent overland in charge of an officer and escort.
When the steamboat started down the river, I went up on the hurricane
deck to have a final look at what remained of Fort Lookout. I saw some
Indians prowling around the abandoned log cabins. Brick chimneys alone
marked the places where our quarters and the officers' houses had
been. I could also make out the white board which marked the lonely
grave of Sergt. Fiske on the hill.
We were soon out of sight, and arrived at Fort Randall in a few days.