l to both. I bade her good-bye and she was off like a flash. I
walked slowly into camp, now and then turning to watch the fast
retreating figure of as brave a prairie child as nature ever produced.
The men appeared glad to see me; the gruff old wagon boss more so than
any of the others, for he would not let me turn my hand to any kind of
work until I was able. Then I did my best to repay him for his many
kindnesses.

At 2 o'clock that afternoon the train broke corral, and for the first
time I realized the slowness of our progress, and the long trip before
us. Under the most favorable circumstances we could not make over ten
miles a day and more often at the beginning three, five and seven.

Our bed was mother earth, a rubber blanket and buffalo robe the
mattress, two pairs of blankets the covering, Heaven's canopy the
roof; the stars our silent sentinels. The days were warm, the nights
cool. We would go into camp at sundown. The cattle were unyoked and
driven to water. After grub the night herder and one of the drivers
would take them in charge, and if there were no Indians following,
would drive them to a good grazing spot over the bluffs.

We passed through Kansas, after crossing the Little and Big Blue
rivers, and part of Nebraska without seeing another log cabin or
woods. Every fifteen or twenty miles there was a stage station of the
Ben Holiday coach line, which ran between Atchison, Kansas, and
Sacramento, California. At every station would be a relay of six
horses, and by driving night and day would make one hundred miles
every twenty-four hours. They were accompanied by a guard of United
States soldiers on top of coaches and on horseback.

[Illustration: FORT CARNEY, NEBRASKA, 1859]

CHAPTER II

ARRIVAL AT FORT CARNEY

[Illustration: A] Arriving at Fort Carney we struck the Platte River
trail leading to Denver. We were compelled by United States army
officers to halt and await the arrival of a train of fifty armed men
before being allowed to proceed. In a few hours the required number
came up, together with three wagon loads of pilgrims. No train was
permitted to pass a Government fort without one hundred well-armed
men; but once beyond the fort, they would become separated and therein
lay the danger.

A captain was appointed by the commander of the fort to take charge.
Here we struck the plains proper, or the great American desert, as it
was often called, the home of the desperate Indians, deg