Perhaps now I can have a little rest from the terrible fear that has
been ever with me day and night during the whole winter, that Oliver
would escape from the old jail and carry out his threat of double
murder. He had made his escape once, and I feared that he might get
out again. But that post and chain must have been very securely fixed
down in that cellar.
FORT LYON, COLORADO TERRITORY,
June, 1874.
BY this time you have my letter telling you that the regiment has been
ordered to the Department of the Gulf. Since then we have heard that
it is to go directly to Holly Springs, Mississippi, for the summer,
where a large camp is to be established. Just imagine what the
suffering will be, to go from this dry climate to the humidity of the
South, and from cool, thick-walled adobe buildings to hot, glary tents
in the midst of summer heat! We will reach Holly Springs about the
Fourth of July. Faye's allowance for baggage hardly carries more than
trunks and a few chests of house linen and silver, so we are taking
very few things with us. It is better to give them away than to pay
for their transportation such a long distance.
Both horses have been sold and beautiful King has gone. The young man
who bought him was a stranger here, and knew absolutely nothing about
the horse except what some one in Las Animas had told him. He rode him
around the yard only once, and then jumping down, pulled from his
pocket a fat roll of bills, counted off the amount for horse, saddle,
and bridle, and then, without saying one word more than a curt "good
morning," he mounted the horse again and rode out of the yard and
away. I saw the whole transaction from a window - saw it as well as
hot, blinding tears would permit. Faye thinks the man might have been
a fugitive and wanted a fast horse to get him out of the country. We
learned not long ago, you know, that King had been an Indian race pony
owned by a half-breed named Bent. He sent word from Camp Supply that I
was welcome to the horse if I could ride him! The chaplain has bought
Powder-Face, and I am to keep him as long as we are here. Hal will go
with us, for I cannot give up that dog and horses, too.
Speaking of Hal reminds me of the awful thing that occurred here a few
days ago. I have written often of the pack of beautiful greyhounds
owned by the cavalry officers, and of the splendid record of
Magic - Hal's father - as a hunter, and how the dog was loved by
Lieutenant Baldwin next to his horse.
But unless the dogs were taken on frequent hunts, they would steal off
on their own account and often be away a whole day, perhaps until
after dark. The other day they went off this way, and in the
afternoon, as Lieutenant Alden was riding along by the river, he came
to a scene that made him positively ill. On the ground close to the
water was the carcass of a calf, which had evidently been filled with
poison for wolves, and near it on the bank lay Magic, Deacon, Dixie,
and other hounds, all dead or dying! Blue has bad teeth and was still
gnawing at the meat, and therefore had not been to the water, which
causes almost instant death in cases of poisoning by wolf meat.
As soon as Lieutenant Alden saw that the other dogs were past doing
for, he hurried on to the post with Blue, and with great difficulty
saved her life. So Hal and his mother are sole survivors of the
greyhounds that have been known at many of the frontier posts as
fearless and tireless hunters, and plucky fighters when forced to
fight. Greyhounds will rarely seek a fight, a trait that sometimes
fools other dogs and brings them to their Waterloo. When Lieutenant
Alden told me of the death of the dogs, tears came in his eyes as he
said, "I have shared my bed with old Magic many a time!" And how those
dogs will be missed at the bachelor quarters! When we came here last
summer, I was afraid that the old hounds would pounce upon Hal, but
instead of that they were most friendly and seemed to know he was one
of them - a wanderer returned.
ST. CHARLES HOTEL, NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA,
September, 1877.
LIFE in the Army is certainly full of surprises! At Pass Christian
yesterday morning, Faye and I were sitting on the veranda reading the
papers in an indifferent sort of way, when suddenly Faye jumped up and
said, "The Third has been ordered to Montana Territory!" At first I
could not believe him - it seemed so improbable that troops would be
sent to such a cold climate at this season of the year, and besides,
most of the regiment is at Pittsburg just now because of the great
coal strike. But there in the Picayune was the little paragraph of
half a dozen lines that was to affect our lives for years to come, and
which had the immediate power to change our condition of indolent
content, into one of the greatest activity and excitement!
Faye went at once to the telegraph office and by wire gave up the
remainder of his leave, and also asked the regimental adjutant if
transportation was being provided for officers' families. The distance
is so great, and the Indians have been so hostile in Montana during
the past two years, that we thought families possibly would not be
permitted to go.
