We are forty miles from Camp
Supply and about the same distance from Fort Dodge. The weather is
delightful - sunny and very warm.
I was prevented from finishing this the other day by the coming of a
dozen or more Arapahoe Indians, but as the mail does not go north
until to-morrow morning, I can tell you of the more than busy time we
have had since then.
For two or three days the weather had been unseasonably warm - almost
like summer - and one evening it was not only hot, but so sultry one
wondered where all the air had gone. About midnight, however, a
terrific wind came up, cold and piercing, and very soon snow began to
fall, and then we knew that we were having a "Texas norther," a storm
that is feared by all old frontiersmen. Of course we were perfectly
safe from the wind, for only a cyclone could tear down these thick
walls of sand, but the snow sifted in every place - between the logs of
the inner wall, around the windows - and almost buried us. And the cold
became intense.
In the morning the logs of that entire wall from top to bottom, were
white inside with snow, and looked like a forest in the far North. The
floor was covered with snow, and so was the foot of the bed! Our rooms
were facing just right to catch the full force of the blizzard. The
straightening-out was exceedingly unpleasant, for a fire could not be
started in either stove until after the snow had been swept out. But a
few soldiers can work miracles at times, and this proved to be one of
the times. I went over to the orderly room while they brushed and
scraped everywhere and fixed us up nicely, and we were soon warm and
dry.
The norther continued twenty-four hours, and the cold is still
freezing. All the wood inside was soon consumed, and the men were
compelled to go outside the redoubt for it, and to split it, too. The
storm was so fierce and wholly blinding that it was necessary to
fasten the end of a rope around the waist of each man as he went out,
and tie the other end to the entrance gate to prevent him from losing
his direction and wandering out on the plains. Even with this
precaution it was impossible for a man to remain out longer than ten
minutes, because of the terribly cold wind that at times was almost
impossible to stand up against.
Faye says that he cannot understand why the place has never been made
habitable, or why Lieutenant Cole did not have the wood brought
inside, where it would be convenient in case of a storm. Some of the
men are working at the wood still, and others are making their
quarters' a little more decent. Every tiny opening in our own log
walls has been chinked with pieces of blanket or anything that could
be found, and the entire dirt floor has been covered with clean grain
sacks that are held down smooth and tight by little pegs of wood, and
over this rough carpet we have three rugs we brought with us. At the
small window are turkey-red curtains that make very good shades when
let down at night. There are warm army blankets on the camp bed, and a
folded red squaw blanket on the trunk. The stove is as bright and
shining as the strong arm of a soldier could make it, and on it is a
little brass teakettle singing merrily.
Altogether the little place looks clean and cheerful, quite unlike the
"hole" we came to. Farrar has attended to his part in the kitchen
also, and things look neat and orderly there. A wall tent has been
pitched just outside our door that gives us a large storeroom and at
the same time screens us from the men's quarters that are along one
side of the sandbag walls.
On the side farthest from us the mules and horses are stabled, but one
would never know that an animal was near if those big-headed mules did
not occasionally raise their voices in brays that sound like old
squeaky pumps. When it is pleasant they are all picketed out.
At the first coming of the blizzard the sentry was ordered from the
parapet, and is still off, and I am positive that unless one goes on
soon at night I shall be wholly deaf, because I strain my ears the
whole night through listening for Indians. The men are supposed to be
ever ready for an attack, but if they require drums and cannon to
awaken them in a garrison, how can they possibly hear the stealthy
step of an Indian here? It is foolish to expect anything so
unreasonable.
CIMARRON REDOUBT, KANSAS,
January, 1873.
FANCY our having given a dinner party at this sand-bag castle on the
plains, miles and miles from a white man or woman! The number of
guests was small, but their rank was immense, for we entertained
Powder-Face, Chief of the Arapahoe Nation, and Wauk, his young squaw,
mother of his little chief.
Two or three days ago Powder-Face came to make a formal call upon the
"White Chief," and brought with him two other Indians - aides we would
call them, I presume. A soldier offered to hold his horse, but he
would not dismount, and sat his horse with grave dignity until Faye
went out and in person invited him to come in and have a smoke. He is
an Indian of striking personality - is rather tall, with square, broad
shoulders, and the poise of his head tells one at once that he is not
an ordinary savage.
