After A While He Grunted "How!" Again, And, Assuming An Air Of Great Contempt For Soldiers, Guns, And Shiny Pistols, Rode Away And Soon Disappeared Over The Bluff.

There was only the one Indian in sight, but, as the old sergeant said, "there might have been a dozen red devils just over the bluff!"

One never knows when the "red devils" are near, for they hide themselves back of a bunch of sage brush, and their ponies, whose hoofs are never shod, can get over the ground very swiftly and steal upon you almost as noiselessly as their owners. It is needless to say that we did not have fresh buffalo that day! And the buffalo calf ran on to the herd wholly unconscious of his narrow escape.

We expect to return to Camp Supply in a few days, and in many ways I shall be sorry to leave this place. It is terrible to be so isolated, when one thinks about it, especially if one should be ill. I shall miss Miss Dickinson in the garrison very much, and our daily rides together. General Dickinson and his family passed here last week on their way to his new station.

CAMP SUPPLY, INDIAN TERRITORY, February, 1873.

UPON our return from the Cimarron we found a dear, clean house all ready for us to move into. It was a delightful surprise, and after the wretched huts we have been living in ever since we came to this post, the house with its white walls and board floors seems like fairyland. It is made of vertical logs of course, the same as the other quarters, but these have been freshly chinked, and covered on the inside with canvas. General Bourke ordered the quartermaster to fix the house for us, and I am glad that Major Knox was the one to receive the order, for I have not forgotten how disagreeable he was about the fixing up of our first house here. One can imagine how he must have fumed over the issuing of so much canvas, boards, and even the nails for the quarters of only a second lieutenant!

Many changes have been made during the few weeks General Bourke has been here, the most important having been the separating of the white troops from the colored when on guard duty. The officers and men of the colored cavalry have not liked this, naturally, but it was outrageous to put white and black in the same little guard room, and colored sergeants over white corporals and privates. It was good cause for desertion. But all that is at an end now. General Dickinson is no longer commanding officer, and best of all, the colored troops have been ordered to another department, and the two troops of white cavalry that are to relieve them are here now and in camp not far from the post, waiting for the barracks to be vacated.

We have felt very brave since the camp has been established, and two days ago several of us drove over to a Cheyenne village that is a mile or so up the creek. But soon after we got there we did not feel a bit brave, for we had not been out of the ambulance more than five minutes, when one of their criers came racing in on a very wet pony, and rode like mad in and out among the tepees, all the time screaming something at the top of his voice.

Instantly there was a jabbering by all of them and great commotion. Each Indian talked and there seemed to be no one to listen. Several tepees were taken down wonderfully quick, and a number of ponies were hurried in, saddled, and ridden away at race speed, a few squaws wailing as they watched them go, guns in their hands. Other squaws stood around looking at us, and showing intense hatred through their wicked eyes. It was soon discovered by all of us that the village was really not attractive, and four scared women came back to the garrison as fast as government mules could bring them! What was the cause of so much excitement we will probably never know - and of course we should not have gone there without an officer, and yet, what could one man have done against all those savages!

We were honored by a visit from a chief the other day. He was a Cheyenne from the village, presumably, and his name was White Horse. He must have been born a chief for he was young, very dignified, and very good-looking, too, for an Indian. Of course his face was painted in a hideous way, but his leggings and clothing generally were far more tidy than those of most Indians. His chest was literally covered with polished teeth of animals, beads, and wampum, arranged artistically in a sort of breastplate, and his scalp lock, which had evidently been plaited with much care, was ornamented with a very beautiful long feather.

Fortunately Faye was at home when he came, for he walked right in, unannounced, except the usual "How!" Faye gave him a chair, and this he placed in the middle of the room in a position so he could watch both doors, and then his rifle was laid carefully upon the floor at his right side. He could speak his name, but not another word of English, so, thinking to entertain him, Faye reached for a rifle that was standing in one corner of the room to show him, as it was of a recent make. Although the rifle was almost at the Indian's back the suspicious savage saw what Faye was doing, and like a flash he seized his own gun and laid it across his knees, all the time looking straight at Faye to see what he intended to do next. Not a muscle of his race moved, but his eyes were wonderful, brilliant, and piercing, and plainly said, "Go ahead, I'm ready!"

I saw the whole performance and was wondering if I had not better run for assistance, when Faye laughed, and motioned the Indian to put his rifle down again, at the same time pulling the trigger of his own to assure him that it was not loaded.

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