DOUBT, January, 1873.

IT was such a pleasant surprise yesterday when General Bourke drove up
to the redoubt on his way to Camp Supply from dear old Fort Lyon. He
has been ordered to relieve General Dickinson, and was taking down
furniture, his dogs, and handsome team. Of course there was an escort,
and ever so many wagons, some loaded with tents and camp outfits. We
are rejoicing over the prospect of having an infantry officer in command
when we return to the post. The general remained for luncheon and seemed
to enjoy the broiled buffalo steak very much. He said that now there
are very few buffalo in Colorado and Kansas, because of their wholesale
slaughter by white men during the past year. These men kill them for the
skins only, and General Bourke said that he saw hundreds of carcasses on
the plains between Lyon and Dodge. They are boldly coming to the Indian
Territory now, and cavalry has been sent out several times to drive them
from the reservation.

If the Indians should attempt to protect their rights it would be called
an uprising at once, so they have to lie around on the sand hills and
watch their beloved buffalo gradually disappear, and all the time they
know only too well that with them will go the skins that give them
tepees and clothing, and the meat that furnishes almost all of their
sustenance.

During the blizzard two weeks ago ten or twelve of these buffalo hunters
were caught out in the storm, and being unable to find their own camps
they wandered into Indian villages, each man about half dead from
exposure to the cold and hunger. All were suffering more or less from
frozen feet and hands. In every case the Indians fed and cared for them
until the storm was over, and then they told them to go--and go fast
and far, or it would not be well with them. Faye says that it was truly
noble in the Indians to keep alive those men when they knew they had
been stealing so much from them. But Faye can always see more good in
Indians than I can. Even a savage could scarcely kill a man when he
appeals to him for protection!

There is some kind of excitement here every day--some pleasant, some
otherwise--usually otherwise. The mail escort and wagon are here two
nights during the week, one on the way to Fort Dodge, the other on the
return trip, so we hear the little bits of gossip from each garrison.
The long trains of army wagons drawn by mules that carry stores to the
post always camp near us one night, because