as we strove to restrain our risibles while listening to the comments of
the party on the utter worthlessness of "that dog Booby." Suddenly the
camp was electrified by Gillette asking, "Who was on guard last night?"
"That's it," said one. "That's where the birds went," said another. This
denouement was too much for Hedges and myself, and amid uproarious
laughter we made confession, and "Booby" was relieved from his disgrace
and called back into the camp, and patted on the head as a "good dog,"
and he has now more friends in camp than ever before.

Mr. Hauser, who brought down the birds with two well directed shots with
his revolver, made from the back of his horse without halting the
animal, had expected to have a dainty breakfast, but he is himself too
fond of a practical joke to express any disappointment, and no one in
the party is more unconcerned at the outcome than he. He is a
philosopher, and, as I know from eight years' association with him, does
not worry over the evils which he can remedy, nor those which he cannot
remedy. There can be found no better man than he for such a trip as we
are making.

"Booby" is taking more kindly, day by day, to the buckskin moccasins
which "Newt" made and tied on his feet a few days ago. When he was first
shod with them he rebelled and tore them off with his teeth, but I think
he has discovered that they lessen his sufferings, which shows that he
has some good dog sense left, and that probably his name "Booby" is a
misnomer. I think there is a great deal of good in the animal. He is
ever on the alert for unusual noises or sounds, and the assurance which
I have that he will give the alarm in case any thieving Indians shall
approach our camp in the night is a great relief to my anxiety lest some
straggling band of the Crows may "set us afoot." Jake Smith was on guard
three nights ago, and he was so indifferent to the question of safety
from attack that he enjoyed a comfortable nap while doing guard duty,
and I have asked our artist, Private Moore, to make for me a sketch of
Smith as I found him sound asleep with his saddle for a pillow. Jake
might well adopt as a motto suitable for his guidance while doing guard
duty, "Requieseat in pace." Doubtless Jake thought, "Shall I not take
mine ease in mine inn?" I say _thought_ for I doubt if Jake can give a
correct verbal rendering of the sentence. A few evenings ago he jocosely
thought to establish, by a quotation from Shakespeare, th