Passing by the ruins of Jack
Slade's ranch, the long curve of the Horseshoe, the bluffs and the
plains, we are once more at Fort Laramie, and sitting in the cool
evening air upon the friendly verandah of Major W----, hearing the
band play.
Our stay at the post was short, but we had time to attend a charming
little ball given us by the officers, and to drive along the really
pretty banks of the Laramie. And now we were to leave them once more
for a wilder country still, the Indian Territory itself, and to visit
Red Cloud and Spotted Tail agencies, the names of which alone gave us
a sense of adventure and of nearness to savage life. Our escort was
increased to fifty men, under command of Captain S---- and two
lieutenants, and we took along with us a large supply-train for the
agencies of about thirty wagons, so that, numbering the teamsters and
drivers, our party was at least one hundred strong.
Fording the Platte, a large deep stream, was a little unpleasant to us
novices, for we tumbled about a great deal over the stones in the
river-bed, and felt as if an upset was quite possible.
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