This Apparently Satisfied Him, But He Did Not Put His Gun Back On The Floor, But Let It Rest Across His Knees All The Time He Sat There.

And that was for the longest time - and never once did he change his position, turn his head, or, as we could see, move an eyelid!

But nevertheless he made one feel that it was not necessary for him to turn his head - that it was all eyes, that he could see up and down and across and could read one's very thoughts, too.

The Indian from whom we bought Powder-Face - his name is Dog, you will remember - has found us out, and like a dog comes every day for something to eat. He always walks right into the kitchen; if the door is closed he opens it. If he is not given things he stands around with the greatest patience, giving little grunts now and then, and watches Farrar until the poor soldier becomes worn out and in self-defense gives him something, knowing full well all the time that trouble is being stored up for the next day. The Indian never seems cross, but smiles at everything, which is most unusual in a savage.

With the white cavalry is a classmate of Faye's, Lieutenant Isham, and yesterday I went but to camp with him and rode his horse, a large, spirited animal. It was the horse's first experience with a side saddle, and at first he objected to the habit and jumped around and snorted quite a little, but he soon saw that I was really not a dangerous person and quieted down.

As Lieutenant Isham and I were cantering along at a nice brisk gait we met Faye, who was returning from the camp on Powder-Face, and it could be plainly seen that he disapproved of my mount. But he would not turn back with us, however, and we went on to camp without him. There is something very fascinating about a military camp - it is always so precise and trim - the little tents for the men pitched in long straight lines, each one looking as though it had been given especial attention, and with all things is the same military precision and neatness. It was afternoon stables and we rode around to the picket lines to watch the horses getting their grooming.

When I got home Faye was quick to tell me that I would certainly be killed if I continued to ride every untrained horse that came along! Not a very pleasant prospect for me; but I told him that I did not want to mortify him and myself, too, by refusing to mount horses that his own classmates, particularly those in the cavalry, asked me to ride, and that I knew very well he would much prefer to see me on a spirited animal than a "gentle ladies' horse" that any inexperienced rider could manage. So we decided that the horse, after all, was not a vicious beast, and I am to ride him again to-morrow.

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