Bozeman is only three miles from
here, yet not one hailstone, not one drop of rain did they get there.
They saw the moving wall of gray and heard the roar, and feared that
something terrible was happening up here.
The storm has probably ruined the mushrooms that we have found so
delicious lately. At one time, just out of the post, there was a long,
log stable for cavalry horses which was removed two or three years
ago, and all around, wherever the decayed logs had been, mushrooms
have sprung up. When it rains is the time to get the freshest, and
many a time Mrs. Fiske and I have put on long storm coats and gone out
in the rain for them, each bringing in a large basket heaping full of
the most delicate buttons. The quantity is no exaggeration
whatever - and to be very exact, I would say that we invariably left
about as many as we gathered. Usually we found the buttons massed
together under the soft dirt, and when we came to an umbrella-shaped
mound with little cracks on top, we would carefully lift the dirt with
a stick and uncover big clusters of buttons of all sizes. We always
broke the large buttons off with the greatest care and settled the
spawn back in the loose dirt for a future harvest. We often found
large mushrooms above ground, and these were delicious baked with
cream sauce. They would be about the size of an ordinary saucer, but
tender and full of rich flavor - and the buttons would vary in size
from a twenty-five-cent piece to a silver dollar, each one of a
beautiful shell pink underneath. They were so very superior to
mushrooms we had eaten before - with a deliciousness all their own.
We are wondering if the storm passed over the Yellowstone Park, where
just now are many tents and considerable transportation. The party
consists of the general of the Army, the department commander, members
of their staffs, and two justices of the supreme court. From the park
they are to go across country to Fort Missoula, and as there is only a
narrow trail over the mountains they will have to depend entirely upon
pack mules. These were sent up from Fort Custer for Faye to fit out
for the entire trip. I went down to the corral to see them start out,
and it was a sight well worth going to see. It was wonderful, and
laughable, too, to see what one mule could carry upon his back and two
sides.
The pack saddles are queer looking things that are strapped carefully
and firmly to the mules, and then the tents, sacks, boxes, even stoves
are roped to the saddle. One poor mule was carrying a cooking stove.
There were forty pack mules and one "bell horse" and ten packers - for
of course it requires an expert packer to put the things on the saddle
so they are perfectly balanced and will not injure the animal's back.
The bell horse leads, and wherever it goes the mules will follow.
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