You Know The Stovepipe Goes Up Through A Piece Of Tin Fastened In The
Roof Of The Tent, Which Is Slanting, And When The Canvas Catches The
Wind And Flops Up And Down And Every Other Way, The Stovepipe
Naturally Has To Go With It.
The wind was just right that morning to
flop everything - canvas, pipe, stove, and breakfast, too - particularly
the delicate Saratoga chips Charlie had prepared for us, and which,
Faye said, were being blown about like yellow rose leaves.
The poor
little heathen was distracted, but when he saw Faye he instantly
became a general and said at once, "You hole-ee him - me takee
bleckfus." So Faye having a desire for breakfast, held down the stove
while Charlie got things together. The Saratoga chips were delicate
and crisp and looked nice, too, but neither the doctor nor I asked
Faye if they were some of the "rose leaves" or just plain potatoes
from a dish!
Charlie is splendid and most resourceful. Very near our tent is a
small stream of cold, clear water, and on one side of this he has made
a little cave of stones through which the water runs, and in this he
keeps the butter, milk, and desserts that require a cool place. He is
pottering around about something all the time. There is just one poor
cow in the whole camp, so we cannot get much milk - only one pint each
day - but we consider ourselves very fortunate in getting any at all. I
brought over fourteen dozen eggs, packed in boxes with salt. We are to
start back the first of November, so after we got here I worked out a
little problem in mathematics, and found that the eggs would last by
using only two each day. But Charlie does better than this; he will
manage to get along without eggs for a day or two, and will then
surprise us with a fine omelet or custard. But he keeps an exact
account and never exceeds his allowance.
The doctor is still with us, and shows no inclination to join the
officers' mess that has just been started. He seems to think that he
is one of the family, and would be greatly surprised, and hurt
probably, if he should discover that we would rather be alone.
FORT MAGINNIS, MONTANA TERRITORY,
September, 1880.
THERE is a large village of Cree Indians in the valley below, and for
several days they were a great nuisance in the garrison. One bright
morning it was discovered that a long line of them had left their
tepees and were coming in this direction. They were riding single
file, of course, and were chanting and beating "tom-toms" in a way to
make one's blood feel frozen. I was out on one of the little hills at
the time, riding Bettie, and happened to be about the first to see
them. I started for the post at once at a fast gait and told Faye and
Colonel Palmer about them, but as soon as it was seen that they were
actually coming to the post, I rode out again about as fast as I had
come in, and went to a bit of high ground where I could command a view
of the camp, and at the same time be screened by bushes and rocks.
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