of Captain James Gorman of the
Renville Rangers) into our wagon. In order to have a little fun as a
side diversion, a race with our mules was commenced, the tailor George
driving. His position was lubricous as he drove over the rough ground,
shaking the squaw and the old man well. Having gotten some distance
ahead, we halted at a creek for target practice; and some good shots
were made.

Homeward bound, as viewed from a high ridge, the appearance of our
train was romantic and picturesque. The Indian warriors with their
mounted guard were in the advance, and then the infantry with their
arms and bayonets shining brightly. The mounted men with their Sharps
rifles, contrasting with the Springfields carried by Company G; then
comes the "little barker" (the mountain howitzer on wheels in a wagon),
the gunners riding alongside; then our teams laden with camp equipage,
tents, kettles, etc., the whole cavalcade ending with the Indian camp
following in true Indian style. Ponies loaded almost to the ground:
cows, oxen and wagons the same; and squaws loaded as if their backs
would break. A pretty squaw, with a snow-white blanket around her, is
perched high on top of a big load on a little pony; then there are
other ponies with papooses on their backs, followed by any quantity of
dogs. A simple strap is thrown across the back of a pony, ox, or cow,
supporting the ends of two poles, while the other ends drag on the
ground; midway between the ends are perched the teepee skin, camp
traps, etc., and on top of the whole are placed the children, who are
riding as gaily as if they were on a honeymoon; a string of bells
around the pony's neck, with the bellowing of the cattle, the bright
blue sky above, the surrounding hills (some black with burnt grass,
others green and waving), with the beautiful lakes contrasted,--combined
to make it one of the strangest, wildest, and most beautiful and
romantic pictures I ever witnessed. Camped at sundown on a creek
between two high hills, where a cow was shot,--a promise of fresh beef
for to-morrow.

Sunday, October 19th. It was cold sleeping last night; water frozen in
canteen; but the day was ushered in with the sun shining bright.
Breaking camp in the valley was a beautiful sight, as viewed from the
top of the adjoining hill,--fires burning, tents taken down, mounted
men starting off at a brisk trot. Infantry looked lively and cheerful
at the prospect of soon greeting their comrades at Camp Rele