The quarters are
really nothing more than huts built of vertical logs plastered in
between with mud, and the roofs are of poles and mud! Many of the
rooms have only sand floors. We dined last evening with Captain and
Mrs. Vincent, of the cavalry, and were amazed to find that such
wretched buildings could be made so attractive inside. But of course
they have one of the very best houses on the line, and as company
commander, Captain Vincent can have done about what he wants. And
then, again, they are but recently married, and all their furnishings
are new and handsome. There is one advantage in being with colored
troops - one can always have good servants. Mrs. Vincent has an
excellent colored soldier cook, and her butler was thoroughly trained
as such before he enlisted. It did look so funny, however, to see such
a black man in a blue Uniform.
The march down from Fort Dodge was most uncomfortable the first two
days. It poured and poured rain, and then poured more rain, until
finally everybody and everything was soaked through. I felt so sorry
for the men who had to march in the sticky mud. Their shoes filled
fast with water, and they were compelled constantly to stop, take them
off, and pour out the water. It cleared at last and the sun shone warm
and bright, and then there was another exhibition in camp one
afternoon, of clothing and bedding drying on guy ropes.
All the way down I was on the lookout for Indians, and was laughed at
many a time for doing so, too. Every time something unusual was seen
in the distance some bright person would immediately exclaim, "Oh,
that is only one of Mrs. Rae's Indians!" I said very little about what
I saw during the last day or two, for I felt that the constant teasing
must have become as wearisome to the others as it had to me. But I am
still positive that I saw the black heads of Indians on the top of
ever so many hills we passed. When they wish to see and not be seen
they crawl up a hill on the side farthest from you, but only far
enough up to enable them to look over, and in this position they will
remain for hours, perfectly motionless, watching your every movement.
Unless you notice the hill very carefully you will never see the black
dot on top, for only the eyes and upper part of the head are exposed.
I had been told all this many times; also, that when in an Indian
country to be most watchful when Indians are not to be seen.
Camp Supply is certainly in an Indian country, for it is surrounded by
Comanches, Apaches, Kiowas, Cheyennes, and Arapahoes - each a hostile
tribe, except the last. No one can go a rod from the garrison without
an escort, and our weekly mail is brought down in a wagon and guarded
by a corporal and several privates. Only last week two
couriers - soldiers - who had been sent down with dispatches from Fort
Dodge, were found dead on the road, both shot in the back, probably
without having been given one chance to defend themselves.
We are in camp on low land just outside the post, and last night we
were almost washed away again by the down-pouring rain, and this
morning there is mud everywhere. And this is the country that is
supposed never to have rain! Mrs. Vincent invited me most cordially to
come to her house until we at least knew what quarters we were to
have, and Captain Vincent came early to-day to insist upon my going up
at once, but I really could not go. We have been in rain and mud so
long I feel that I am in no way fit to go to anyone's house. Besides,
it would seem selfish in me to desert Faye, and he, of course, would
not leave the company as long as it is in tents. We are delighted at
finding such charming people as the Vincents at this horrid place.
CAMP SUPPLY, INDIAN TERRITORY,
June, 1872.
WE are in our own house now and almost settled. When one has only a
few pieces of furniture it does not take long to get them in place. It
is impossible to make the rooms look homelike, and I often find myself
wondering where in this world I have wandered to! The house is of
logs, of course, and has a pole and dirt roof, and was built
originally for an officers' mess. The dining room is large and very
long, a part of which we have partitioned off with a piece of canvas
and converted into a storeroom. We had almost to get down on our knees
to the quartermaster before he would give us the canvas. He is in the
quartermaster's department and is most arrogant; seems to think that
every nail and tack is his own personal property and for his exclusive
use.
Our dining room has a sand floor, and almost every night little white
toadstools grow up all along the base of the log walls. All of the
logs are of cottonwood and have the bark on, and the army of bugs that
hide underneath the bark during the day and march upon us at night is
to be dreaded about as much as a whole tribe of Indians!
I wrote you how everyone laughed at me on the march down because I was
positive I saw heads of Indians on the sand hills so many times. Well,
all that has ceased, and the mention of "Mrs. Rae's Indians" is
carefully avoided!
