Army Letters From An Officer's Wife, 1871-1888, By Frances M.A. Roe

















































































































































 -  Faye and I are staying with the commanding officer and his
wife. Colonel Gardner is lieutenant colonel of the  - th - Page 96
Army Letters From An Officer's Wife, 1871-1888, By Frances M.A. Roe - Page 96 of 213 - First - Home

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Faye And I Are Staying With The Commanding Officer And His Wife.

Colonel Gardner is lieutenant colonel of the - th Infantry, and has a most enviable reputation as a post commander.

As an officer, we have not seen him yet, but we do know that he can be a most charming host. He has already informed Faye that he intends to appoint him adjutant and quartermaster of the post.

We are in a little valley almost surrounded by magnificent, heavily timbered mountains, and Colonel Gardner says that at any time one can find deer, mountain sheep, and bear in these forests, adding that there are also mountain lions and wild cats! The scenery on the road from Helena to Camp Baker was grand, but the roads were dreadful, most of the time along the sides of steep mountains that seemed to be one enormous pile of big boulders in some places and solid rock in others. These roads have been cut into the rock and are scarcely wider than the wagon track, and often we could look almost straight down seventy-five feet, or even more, on one side, and straight up for hundreds of feet on the other side.

And in the canons many of the grades were so steep that the wheels of the wagons had to be chained in addition to the big brakes to prevent them from running sideways, and so off the grade. I rode down one of these places, but it was the last as well as the first. Every time the big wagon jolted over a stone - and it was jolt over stones all the time - it seemed as if it must topple over the side and roll to the bottom; and then the way the driver talked to the mules to keep them straight, and the creaking and scraping of the wagons, was enough to frighten the most courageous.

In Confederate Gulch we crossed a ferry that was most marvelous. A heavy steel cable was stretched across the river - the Missouri - and fastened securely to each bank, and then a flat boat was chained at each end to the cable, but so it could slide along when the ferryman gripped the cable with a large hook, and gave long, hard pulls. Faye says that the very swift current of the stream assisted him much.

The river runs through a narrow, deep canon where the ferry is, and at the time we crossed everything was in dark shadow, and the water looked black, and fathoms deep, with its wonderful reflections. The grandeur of these mountains is simply beyond imagination; they have to be seen to be appreciated, and yet when seen, one can scarcely comprehend their immensity. We are five hundred miles from a railroad, with endless chains of these mountains between. All supplies of every description are brought up that distance by long ox trains - dozens of wagons in a train, and eight or ten pairs of oxen fastened to the one long chain that pulls three or four heavily loaded wagons.

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