Traveling two miles this morning, we came to another Indian encampment
of some thirty-five tents. They were encamped upon a beautiful and
expansive plain. These Indians are of the same character of those we saw
yesterday. When we passed by, the sun was just rising and the scene was
quite picturesque. These Indians have a large number of ponies and
mules, which were scattered over the valley feeding, while several
Indians in their blue and white blankets and buffalo skins were watching
them. There were four or five dogs about each tent, and as we passed
they gave us a satisfactory display of vocal sounds. These dogs are an
inferior-looking brute and from imagination appear a little wolfish.
They howl rather than bark, and when a number of them are in concert, it
sounds singularly mournful and plaintive. The road becomes better as we
advance and the grass better than we have before seen. In fact, this is
the earliest period at which the grass can be considered fit for working
cattle. Distance, twenty miles.