Army Letters From An Officer's Wife, 1871-1888, By Frances M.A. Roe

















































































































































 -  The poor doctor
looked as though he was wishing he had made a specialty of dementia,
and stood like a - Page 135
Army Letters From An Officer's Wife, 1871-1888, By Frances M.A. Roe - Page 135 of 213 - First - Home

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The Poor Doctor Looked As Though He Was Wishing He Had Made A Specialty Of Dementia, And Stood Like A Goose, Looking At The Chicken.

Charlie soon became very restless - went inside the tent, and then came out, humming all the time.

Finally he gave in, and coming over to us, fairly snatched the birds from me and said, "Me flixee him," and carried the whole bunch back of his tent where we could not see him. Since that evening Charlie has been the most delighted one in camp when Faye has brought birds in.

All the way we have had only a faint trail to follow, and often even that could not be seen after we had crossed a stream. At such places Faye, the doctor, and I would spread out and search for it. As Bettie and I were always put in the middle, we were usually the finders. One day we came up a hill that was so steep that twelve mules had to be hitched to each wagon in order to get it up. Another day we went down a hill where the trail was so sidling, that the men had to fasten big ropes to the upper side of each wagon to hold it right side up as it was drawn down. Another day we made only a few miles because of the deep-cut banks of a narrow little stream that wound around and across a valley, and which we had to cross eight times. At every crossing the banks had to be sloped off and the bed built up before the wagons could be drawn over. Watching all this has been most entertaining and the whole trip is making a man of the doctor.

To-night we are in camp in the Judith Basin and by the Judith River - a beautiful stream, and by far the largest we have seen on the march. And just across the river from us is a stockade, very high and very large, with heavy board gate that was closed as we came past. We can see the roof of the cabin inside, and a stovepipe sticking up through it. Faye says that he has just heard that the place is a nest of horse thieves of the boldest and most daring type, and that one of them is coming to see him this evening! He was told all this by the Frenchman, Junot, who has a little trading store a mile or so from here.

Faye and the doctor rode over there as soon as the tents had been pitched, to ascertain if the company from Missoula had passed. Our trail and the one from the Bitter Root valley fork there. The company passed several days ago, so we will go on in the morning; otherwise we would have been obliged to wait for it.

I had to stay here all alone as Faye would not consent to my going with him. He gave me one of his big pistols, and I had my own small one, and these I put on a table in the tent, after they had gone, and then fastened the tent flaps tight and sat down to await events.

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