was on his back I had to go with him. The horse was badly frightened,
snorted, and raised his tail high, and when I tried to get him down on
the trail, the higher up he went on the rolling stones. I could almost
touch the side of the mountain with my whip in places, it was so steep.
It was a most dangerous position to be in, and just what elevation I
might have been carried to eventually I do not know, had not the deer
stopped his crashing through the bushes and bounded up on the opposite
bank, directly in front of the first team of mules, and then on he
streaked it across a plateau and far up a mountain side, his short white
tail showing distinctly as he ran. With the deer, Pete seemed to think
that the Evil One had gone, too, and consented to return to the trail
and to cross the stream over to the wagons.
The corporal had stopped the wagons until he saw that I was safely down,
and I asked him why he had not killed the deer--we are always in need of
game--and he said that he had not seen him until he was in front of the
mules, and that it was impossible then, as the deer did not wait for
them to get the rifles out of their cases on the bottom of the wagons.
That evening at the whist table I told Colonel Palmer about the deer and
Pete, and saw at once that I had probably gotten the poor corporal in
trouble. Colonel Palmer was very angry that the men should even think
of going several miles from the post, in an Indian country, with their
rifles cased and strapped so they would have been practically useless in
case of an attack.
Faye says that the men were not thinking of Indians, but simply trying
to keep their rifles from being marred and scratched, for if they did
get so they would be "jumped" at the first inspection. Colonel Palmer
gave most positive orders for the soldiers to hold their rifles in their
hands on their way to and from the mountains, which perhaps is for the
best.
But I am afraid they will blame me for such orders having been issued.
FORT MAGINNIS, MONTANA TERRITORY, October, 1880.
IT is not surprising that politicians got a military post established
here, so this wonderful country could be opened and settled, for the
country itself is not only beautiful, but it has an amount of game every
place that is almost beyond belief. Deer are frequently seen to come
down from the mountains to the creek for water, and prairie chicken
would come to our very tents, I fancy, if left to follow their
inclinations.
Faye is officer of the day every third day, but the other two days there
is not much for him to do, as the company is now working on the new
quarters under the supervision of the quartermaster. So we often go off
on little hunts, usually for chicken, but sometimes we go up on one of
the mountains, where there are quantities of ruffed grouse. These are
delicious, with meat as tender and white as young chicken, and they are
so pretty, too, when they spread the ruffs around their necks and make
fans of their short tail feathers.
Yesterday we went out for birds for both tables--the officers' mess and
our own. The other officers are not hunters, and Faye is the possessor
of the only shotgun in the garrison, therefore it has been a great
pleasure to us to bring in game for all. Faye rides Bettie now
altogether, so I was on Pete yesterday. We had quite a number of
chickens, but thought we would like to get two or three more; therefore,
when we saw a small covey fly over by some bushes, and that one bird
went beyond and dropped on the other side, Faye told me to go on a
little, and watch that bird if it rose again when he shot at the others.
It is our habit usually for me to hold Faye's horse when he dismounts to
hunt, but that time he was some distance away, and had slipped his hand
through the bridle rein and was leading Bettie that way. Both horses are
perfectly broken to firearms, and do not in the least mind a gun. I have
often seen Bettie prick up her ears and watch the smoke come from the
barrel with the greatest interest.
Everything went on very well until I got where I might expect to see the
chicken, and then I presume I gave more thought to the bird than to the
ground the horse was on. At all events, it suddenly occurred to me that
the grass about us was very tall, and looking down closely I discovered
that Pete was in an alkali bog and slowly going down. I at once tried to
get him back to the ground we had just left, but in his frantic efforts
to get his feet out of the sticky mud, he got farther to one side and
slipped down into an alkali hole of nasty black water and slime. That
I knew to be exceedingly dangerous, and I urged the horse by voice
and whip to get him out before he sank down too deep, but with all his
efforts he could do nothing, and was going down very fast and groaning
in his terror.
Seeing that I must have assistance without delay, I called to Faye to
come at once, and sat very still until he got to us, fearing that if I
changed my position the horse might fall over. Faye came running, and
finding a tuft of grass and solid ground to stand upon, pulled Pete by
the bridle and encouraged him until the poor beast finally struggled
out, his legs and stomach covered with the black slime up to the flaps
of my saddle, so one can see what danger we were in. There was no way
of relieving the horse of my weight, as it was impossible for me to jump
and not get stuck in the mud myself. This is the only alkali hole we
have discovered here. It is screened by bunches of tall grass, and
I expect that many a time I have ridden within a few feet of it when
alone, and if my horse had happened to slip down on any one of these
times, we probably would have been sucked from the face of the earth,
and not one person to come to our assistance or to know what had
happened to us.
When Faye heard my call of distress, he threw the bridle back on Bettie,
and slipping the shotgun through the sling on the saddle, hurried over
to me, not giving Bettie much thought. The horse has always shown the
greatest disinclination to leaving Pete, but having her own free will
that time, she did the unexpected and trotted to a herd of mules not far
off, and as she went down a little hill the precious shotgun slipped out
of the sling to the ground, and the stock broke! The gun is perfectly
useless, and the loss of it is great to us and our friends. To be in
this splendid game country without a shotgun is deplorable; still,
to have been buried in a hole of black water and muck would have been
worse.
Later. Such an awful wind storm burst upon us while I was writing two
days ago, I was obliged to stop. The day was cold and our tents were
closed tight to keep the heat in, so we knew nothing of the storm until
it struck us, and with such fierceness it seemed as if the tents must go
down. Instantly there was commotion in camp--some of the men tightening
guy ropes, and others running after blankets and pieces of clothing
that had been out for an airing, but every man laughed and made fun
of whatever he was doing. Soldiers are always so cheerful under such
difficulties, and I dearly love to hear them laugh, and yell, too, over
in their tents.
The snow fell thick and fast, and the wind came through the canon back
of us with the velocity of a hurricane. As night came on it seemed to
increase and the tents began to show the strain and one or two had
gone down, so the officers' families were moved into the unfinished log
quarters for the night. Colonel Palmer sent for me to go over also, and
Major Bagley came twice for me, saying our tents would certainly fall,
and that it would be better to go then, than in the middle of the night.
But I had more faith in those tents, for they were new and pitched
remarkably well. Soon after we got here, long poles had been put up on
stakes all along each side of, and close to, the tents, and to these the
guy ropes of both tents and "fly" covers had been securely fastened, all
of which had prevented much flopping of canvas. Dirt had been banked
all around the base of the tents, so with a very little fire we could be
warm and fairly comfortable.
The wind seemed to get worse every minute, and once in a while there
would be a loud "boom" when a big Sibley tent would be ripped open,
and then would come yells from the men as they scrambled after their
belongings. After it became dark it seemed dismal, but Faye would not go
in a building, and I would not leave him alone to hold the stove down.
This was our only care and annoyance. It was intensely cold, and in
order to have a fire we were compelled to hold the pipe down on the
little conical camp stove, for with the flopping of the tent and fly,
the pipe was in constant motion. Faye would hold it for a while, then I
would relieve him, and so on. The holding-down business was very funny
for an hour or two, but in time it became monotonous.
We got through the night very well, but did not sleep much. The tearing
and snapping of tents, and the shouting of the men when a tent would
fall upon them was heard frequently, and when we looked out in the
morning the camp had the appearance of having been struck by a cyclone!
Two thirds of the tents were flat on the ground, others were badly torn,
and the unfinished log quarters only added to the desolation. Snow was
over everything ten or twelve inches deep. But the wind had gone down
and the atmosphere was wonderfully clear, and sparkling, and full of
frost.
Dinner the evening before had not been a success, so we were very prompt
to the nice hot breakfast Charlie gave us. That Chinaman has certainly
been a great comfort on this trip. The doctor came over looking cross
and sick. He said at once that we had been wise in remaining in our
comfortable tents, that everybody in the log houses was sneezing and
complaining of stiff joints. The logs have not been chinked yet, and, as
might have been expected, wind and snow swept through them. The stoves
have not been set up, so even one fire was impossible. Two or three of
their tents did go down, however, the doctor's included, and perhaps
they were safer in a breezy house, after all.
The mail has been held back, and will start with us. The time of going
was determined at Department Headquarters, and we will have to leave
here on the first--day after to-morrow--if such a thing is possible. We
return by the way of Benton. It is perfectly exasperating to see prairie
chicken all around us on the snow. Early this morning there was a large
covey up in a tree just across the creek from our tent, looking over at
us in a most insolent manner. They acted as though they knew there was
not a shotgun within a hundred miles of them. They were perfectly safe,
for everyone was too nearly frozen to trouble them with a rifle.
Camping on the snow will not be pleasant, and we regret very much that
the storm came just at this time. Charlie is busy cooking all sorts of
things for the trip, so he will not have much to do on the little camp
stove. He is a treasure, but says that he wishes we could stay here;
that he does not want to return to Fort Shaw. This puzzles me very much,
as there are so many Chinamen at Shaw and not one here. The doctor will
not go back with us, as he has received orders to remain at this post
during the winter.
FORT SHAW, MONTANA TERRITORY, November, 1880.
THE past few days have been busy ones. The house has received much
needed attention and camp things have been looked over and put away,
ready for the next move. The trip back was a disappointment to me and
not at all pleasant. The wagons were very lightly loaded, so the men
rode in them all the way, and we came about forty miles each day, the
mules keeping up a steady slow trot. Of course I could not ride those
distances at that gait, therefore I was compelled to come in the old,
jerky ambulance.
The snow was still deep when we left Maginnis, and at the first camp
snow had to be swept from the ground where our tent was pitched. But
after that the weather was warm and sunny. We saw the greatest number of
feathered game--enormous flocks of geese, brant, and ducks. Our camp one
night was near a small lake just the other side of Benton, and at dusk
hundreds of geese came and lit on the water, until it looked like one
big mass of live, restless things, and the noise was deafening. Some
of the men shot at them with rifles, but the geese did not seem to mind
much.
Charlie told me at Maginnis that he did not want to return to Shaw, and
I wondered at that so many times. I went in the kitchen two miserable
mornings back and found him sitting down looking unhappy and
disconsolate. I do not remember to have ever seen a Chinaman sitting
down that way before, and was afraid he might be sick, but he said at
once and without preamble, "Me go 'way!" He saw my look of surprise and
said again, "Me go 'way--Missee Bulk's Chinee-man tellee me go 'way." I
said, "But, Charlie, Lee has no right to tell you to go; I want you
to stay." He hesitated one second, then said in the most mournful of
voices, "Yes, me know, me feel vellee blad, but Lee, he tellee me go--he
no likee mason-man." No amount of persuasion could induce him to stay,
and that evening after dinner he packed his bedding on his back and went
away--to the Crossing, I presume. Charlie called himself a mason, and
has a book that he made himself which he said was a "mason-man blook,"
but I learned yesterday that he is a "high-binder," no mason at all,
and for that reason the Chinamen in the garrison would not permit him to
remain here. They were afraid of him, yet he seemed so very trustworthy
in every way. But a highbinder in one's own house!
There has been another departure from the family--Bettie has been sold!
Lieutenant Warren wanted her to match a horse he had recently bought.
The two make a beautiful little team, and Bettie is already a great
pet, and I am glad of that, of course, but I do not see the necessity of
Lieutenant Warren's giving her sugar right in front of our windows! His
quarters are near ours. He says that Bettie made no objections to the
harness, but drove right off with her mate.
There was a distressing occurrence in the garrison yesterday that I
cannot forget. At all army posts the prisoners do the rough work, such
as bringing the wood and water, keeping the yards tidy, bringing the
ice, and so on. Yesterday morning one of the general prisoners here
escaped from the sentry guarding him. The long-roll was beaten, and as
this always means that something is wrong and calls out all the troops,
officers and men, I ran out on the porch to see what was the matter,
fearing there might be a fire some place. It seemed a long time before
the companies got in line, and then I noticed that instead of fire
buckets they were carrying rifles. Directly every company started off
on double time and disappeared in between two sets of barracks at one
corner of the parade ground. Then everything was unusually quiet; not
a human being to be seen except the sentry at the guardhouse, who was
walking post.
It was pleasant, so I sat down, still feeling curious about the trouble
that was serious enough to call out all the troops. It was not so very
long before Lieutenant Todd, who was officer of the day, came from the
direction the companies had gone, pistol in hand, and in front of him
was a man with ball and chain. That means that his feet were fastened
together by a large chain, just long enough to permit him to take short
steps, and to that short chain was riveted a long one, at the end
of which was a heavy iron ball hanging below his belt. When we see a
prisoner carrying a ball and chain we know that he is a deserter, or
that he has done something very bad, which will probably send him to the
penitentiary, for these balls are never put on a prisoner who has only a
short time in the guardhouse.
The prisoner yesterday--who seemed to be a young man--walked slowly to
the guardhouse, the officer of the day following closely. Going up the
steps and on in the room to a cot, he unfastened the ball from his belt
and let it thunder down on the floor, and then throwing himself down on
the cot, buried his face in the blankets, an awful picture of woe and
despair. On the walk by the door, and looking at him with contempt,
stood a splendid specimen of manhood--erect, broad-chested, with clear,
honest eyes and a weather-beaten face--a typical soldier of the United
States Army, and such as he, the prisoner inside might have become in
time. Our house is separated from the guardhouse by a little park
only, and I could plainly see the whole thing--the strong man and the
weakling.
In the meantime, bugles had called the men back to quarters, and very
soon I learned all about the wretched affair. The misguided young man
had deserted once before, was found guilty by a general court-martial,
and sentenced to the penitentiary at Leavenworth for the regulation time
for such an offense, and to-morrow morning he was to have started for
the prison. Now he has to stand a second court-martial, and serve a
double sentence for desertion!
He was so silly about it too. The prisoners were at the large ice house
down by the river, getting ice out for the daily delivery. There were
sentinels over them, of course, but in some way that man managed to
sneak over the ice through the long building to an open door, through
which he dropped down to the ground, and then he ran. He was missed
almost instantly and the alarm given, but the companies were sent to the
lowland along the river, where there are bushes, for there seemed to be
no other place where he could possibly secrete himself.
The officer of the day is responsible, in a way, for the prisoners, so
of course Lieutenant Todd went to the ice house to find out the cause
of the trouble, and on his way back he accidentally passed an old
barrel-shaped water wagon. Not a sound was heard, but something told
him to look inside. He had to climb up on a wheel in order to get high
enough to look through the little square opening at the top, but he is
a tall man and could just see in, and peering down he saw the wretched
prisoner huddled at one end, looking more like an animal than a human
being. He ordered him to come out, and marched him to the guardhouse.
It was a strange coincidence, but the officer of the day happened to
have been promoted from the ranks, had served his three years as an
enlisted man, and then passed a stiff examination for a commission. One
could see by his walk that he had no sympathy for the mother's baby.
He knew from experience that a soldier's life is not hard unless the
soldier himself makes it so. The service and discipline develop all the
good qualities of the man, give him an assurance and manly courage he
might never possess otherwise, and best of all, he learns to respect law
and order.
The Army is not a rough place, and neither are the men starved or
abused, as many mothers seem to think. Often the company commanders
receive the most pitiful letters from mothers of enlisted men,
beseeching them to send their boys back to them, that they are being
treated like dogs, dying of starvation, and so on. As though these
company commanders did not know all about those boys and the life they
had to live.
It is such a pity that these mothers cannot be made to realize that army
discipline, regular hours, and plain army food is just what those "boys"
need to make men of them. Judging by several letters I have read, sent
to officers by mothers of soldiers, I am inclined to believe that weak
mothers in many cases are responsible for the desertion of their weak
sons. They sap all manhood from them by "coddling" as they grow up, and
send them out in the world wholly unequal to a vigorous life--a
life without pie and cake at every meal. Well! I had no intention of
moralizing this way, but I have written only the plain truth.
FORT SHAW, MONTANA TERRITORY September, 1881.
THERE has been quite a little flutter of excitement in the garrison
during the past week brought about by a short visit from the Marquis
of Lome and his suite. As governor general of Canada, he had been
inspecting his own military posts, and then came on down across the line
to Shaw, en route to Dillon, where he will take the cars for the East.
Colonel Knight is in command, so it fell upon him to see that Lord Lome
was properly provided for, which he did by giving up absolutely for his
use his own elegantly furnished quarters. Lord Lome took possession at
once and quietly dined there that evening with one or two of his staff,
and Colonel Knight as his guest.
The members of the suite were entertained by different officers of the
garrison, and Captain Percival of the Second Life Guards was our guest.
They were escorted across the line to this post by a company of Canadian
mounted police, and a brave appearance those redcoats made as they rode
on the parade ground and formed two lines through which the governor
general and his staff rode, with the booming of cannon. Colonel Knight
went out to meet them, escorted by our mounted infantry in command of
Lieutenant Todd.
The horses of the mounted police were very small, and inferior in every
way to the animals one would expect the Canadian government to provide,
and it did look very funny to see the gorgeously dressed police with
their jaunty, side-tilted caps riding such wretched little beasts!
Our officers were on the parade to receive the governor general, and the
regimental band was there also, playing all sorts of things. Presently,
without stop, and as though it was the continuation of a melody, the
first notes of "God Save the Queen" were heard. Instantly the head
of every Englishman and Canadian was uncovered--quietly, and without
ostentation or slightest break in hand-shaking and talking. It was
like a military movement by bugle call! Some of us who were looking on
through filmy curtains thought it a beautiful manifestation of loving
loyalty. They were at a military post of another nation, in the midst of
being introduced to its officers, yet not one failed to remember and to
remind, that he was an Englishman ever!
Mrs. Gordon saved me the worry of preparing an elaborate dinner at this
far-away place, by inviting us and our guest to dine with her and her
guests. I am inclined to think that this may have been a shrewd move on
the part of the dear friend, so she could have Hang to assist her
own cook at her dinner. It was a fine arrangement, at all events, and
pleased me most of all. I made the salad and arranged the table for her.
Judging from what I saw and heard, Hang was having a glorious time. He
had evidently frightened the old colored cook into complete idiocy, and
was ordering her about in a way that only a Chinaman knows.
The dinner was long, but delicious and enjoyable in every way. Lord
Bagot, the Rev. Dr. MacGregor, Captain Chater, and others of the
governor general's staff were there--sixteen of us in all. Captain
Percival sat at my right, of course, and the amount he ate was simply
appalling! And the appetites of Lord Bagot and the others were equally
fine. Course after course disappeared from their plates--not a scrap
left on them--until one wondered how it was managed. Soon after dinner
everyone went to Colonel Knight's quarters, where Lord Lome was holding
a little reception. He is a charming man, very simple in his manner, and
one could hardly believe that he is the son-in-law of a great queen and
heir to a splendid dukedom.
He had announced that he would start at ten o'clock the next morning,
so I ordered breakfast at nine. A mounted escort from the post was to
go with him to Dillon in command of Faye. It has always seemed so absurd
and really unkind for Americans to put aside our own ways and
customs when entertaining foreigners, and bore them with wretched
representations of things of their own country, thereby preventing them
from seeing life as it is here. So I decided to give our English captain
an out and out American breakfast--not long, or elaborate, but dainty
and nicely served. And I invited Miss Mills to meet him, to give it a
little life.