e tribes and hostile Mexicans, whose numbers
were unknown, might make their path one of woe and slaughter. Those who
gathered to see them start looked upon them as heroes who might never see
their homes again.

On the 26th of June the main body of the expedition began its march,
taking the trail of a provision train of two hundred wagons and two
companies of cavalry sent in advance, and followed, three days later, by
Kearney with the rear. For the first time in history an army under the
American standard, and with all the bravery of glittering guns and
floating flags, was traversing those ancient plains. For years the Santa
Fe trail had been a synonym for deeds of horror, including famine,
bloodshed, and frightful scenes of Indian cruelty. The bones of men and of
beasts of burden paved the way, and served as a gruesome pathway for the
long line of marching troops.

The early route led, now through thick timber, now over plains carpeted
with tall grasses, now across ravines or creeks, now through soft ground
in which the laden wagons sank to their axles, and tried the horses
severely to pull them out. To draw the heavy wagons up the steep ridges of
the table-lands the tugging strength of a hundred men was sometimes
needed.

Summer was now on the land, and for days together the heat was almost
unbearable. There was trouble, too, with the cavalry horses, raw animals,
unused to their new trappings and discipline, and which often broke loose
and scampered away, only to be caught by dint of weary pursuit and profane
ejaculations.

For six hundred miles the column traversed the great Santa Fe trail
without sight of habitation and over a dreary expanse, no break to the
monotony appearing until their glad eyes beheld the fertile and flowery
prairies surrounding Fort Bent on the Arkansas. Here was a rich and
well-watered level, with clumps of trees and refreshing streams, forming
convenient halting-places for rest and bathing. As yet there had been no
want of food, a large merchant train of food wagons having set out in
advance of their own provision train, and for a few days life ceased to be
a burden and became a pleasure.

They needed this refreshment sadly, for the journey to Fort Bent had been
one of toil and hardships, of burning suns, and the fatigue of endless
dreary miles. The wagon-trains were often far in advance and food at times
grew scanty, while the scarcity of fuel made it difficult to warm their
sparse supp