Orders are relentless, even if they seem senseless,
which this one did, to the women, at least, of the Eighth
Infantry.
CHAPTER XXX
FORT NIOBRARA
The journey itself, however, was not to be dreaded, although it
was so undesired. It was entirely by rail across New Mexico and
Kansas, to St. Joseph, then up the Missouri River and then across
the state to the westward. Finally, after four or five days, we
reached the small frontier town of Valentine, in the very
northwest corner of the bleak and desolate state of Nebraska. The
post of Niobrara was four miles away, on the Niobrara (swift
water) River.
Some officers of the Ninth Cavalry met us at the station with the
post ambulances. There were six companies of our regiment, with
headquarters and band.
It was November, and the drive across the rolling prairie-land
gave us a fair glimpse of the country around. We crossed the old
bridge over the Niobrara River, and entered the post. The snow
lay already on the brown and barren hills, and the place struck a
chill to my heart.
The Ninth Cavalry took care of all the officers' families until
we could get established. Lieutenant Bingham, a handsome and
distinguished-looking young bachelor, took us with our two
children to his quarters, and made us delightfully at home. His
quarters were luxuriously furnished, and he was altogether
adorable. This, to be sure, helped to soften my first harsh
impressions of the place.
Quarters were not very plentiful, and we were compelled to take a
house occupied by a young officer of the Ninth. What base
ingratitude it seemed, after the kindness we had accepted from
his regiment! But there was no help for it. We secured a colored
cook, who proved a very treasure, and on inquiring how she came
to be in those wilds, I learned that she had accompanied a young
heiress who eloped with a cavalry lieutenant, from her home in
New York some years before.
What a contrast was here, and what a cruel contrast! With blood
thinned down by the enervating summer at Tucson, here we were,
thrust into the polar regions! Ice and snow and blizzards,
blizzards and snow and ice! The mercury disappeared at the bottom
of the thermometer, and we had nothing to mark any degrees lower
than 40 below zero. Human calculations had evidently stopped
there. Enormous box stoves were in every room and in the halls;
the old-fashioned sort that we used to see in school-rooms and
meeting-houses in New England. Into these, the soldiers stuffed
great logs of mountain mahogany,and the fires were kept roaring
day and night.
A board walk ran in front of the officers' quarters, and,
desperate for fresh air and exercise, some of the ladies would
bundle up and go to walk.
