IT is not surprising that politicians got a military post established here, so this wonderful country could be opened and settled, for the country itself is not only beautiful, but it has an amount of game every place that is almost beyond belief. Deer are frequently seen to come down from the mountains to the creek for water, and prairie chicken would come to our very tents, I fancy, if left to follow their inclinations.

Faye is officer of the day every third day, but the other two days there is not much for him to do, as the company is now working on the new quarters under the supervision of the quartermaster. So we often go off on little hunts, usually for chicken, but sometimes we go up on one of the mountains, where there are quantities of ruffed grouse. These are delicious, with meat as tender and white as young chicken, and they are so pretty, too, when they spread the ruffs around their necks and make fans of their short tail feathers.

Yesterday we went out for birds for both tables--the officers' mess and our own. The other officers are not hunters, and Faye is the possessor of the only shotgun in the garrison, therefore it has been a great pleasure to us to bring in game for all. Faye rides Bettie now altogether, so I was on Pete yesterday. We had quite a number of chickens, but thought we would like to get two or three more; therefore, when we saw a small covey fly over by some bushes, and that one bird went beyond and dropped on the other side, Faye told me to go on a little, and watch that bird if it rose again when he shot at the others. It is our habit usually for me to hold Faye's horse when he dismounts to hunt, but that time he was some distance away, and had slipped his hand through the bridle rein and was leading Bettie that way. Both horses are perfectly broken to firearms, and do not in the least mind a gun. I have often seen Bettie prick up her ears and watch the smoke come from the barrel with the greatest interest.

Everything went on very well until I got where I might expect to see the chicken, and then I presume I gave more thought to the bird than to the ground the horse was on. At all events, it suddenly occurred to me that the grass about us was very tall, and looking down closely I discovered that Pete was in an alkali bog and slowly going down. I at once tried to get him back to the ground we had just left, but in his frantic efforts to get his feet out of the sticky mud, he got farther to one side and slipped down into an alkali hole of nasty black water and slime. That I knew to be exceedingly dangerous, and I urged the horse by voice and whip to get him out before he sank down too deep, but with all his efforts he could do nothing, and was going down very fast and groaning in his terror.

Seeing that I must have assistance without delay, I called to Faye to come at once, and sat very still until he got to us, fearing that if I changed my position the horse might fall over. Faye came running, and finding a tuft of grass and solid ground to stand upon, pulled Pete by the bridle and encouraged him until the poor beast finally struggled out, his legs and stomach covered with the black slime up to the flaps of my saddle, so one can see what danger we were in. There was no way of relieving the horse of my weight, as it was impossible for me to jump and not get stuck in the mud myself. This is the only alkali hole we have discovered here. It is screened by bunches of tall grass, and I expect that many a time I have ridden within a few feet of it when alone, and if my horse had happened to slip down on any one of these times, we probably would have been sucked from the face of the earth, and not one person to come to our assistance or to know what had happened to us.

When Faye heard my call of distress, he threw the bridle back on Bettie, and slipping the shotgun through the sling on the saddle, hurried over to me, not giving Bettie much thought. The horse has always shown the greatest disinclination to leaving Pete, but having her own free will that time, she did the unexpected and trotted to a herd of mules not far off, and as she went down a little hill the precious shotgun slipped out of the sling to the ground, and the stock broke! The gun is perfectly useless, and the loss of it is great to us and our friends. To be in this splendid game country without a shotgun is deplorable; still, to have been buried in a hole of black water and muck would have been worse.

Later. Such an awful wind storm burst upon us while I was writing two days ago, I was obliged to stop. The day was cold and our tents were closed tight to keep the heat in, so we knew nothing of the storm until it struck us, and with such fierceness it seemed as if the tents must go down. Instantly there was commotion in camp--some of the men tightening guy ropes, and others running after blankets and pieces of clothing that had been out for an airing, but every man laughed and made fun of whatever he was doing. Soldiers are always so cheerful under such difficulties, and I dearly love to hear them laugh, and yell, too, over in their tents.

The snow fell thick and fast, and the wind came through the canon back of us with the velocity of a hurricane. As night came on it seemed to increase and the tents began to show the strain and one or two had gone down, so the officers' families were moved into the unfinished log quarters for the night. Colonel Palmer sent for me to go over also, and Major Bagley came twice for me, saying our tents would certainly fall, and that it would be better to go then, than in the middle of the night. But I had more faith in those tents, for they were new and pitched remarkably well. Soon after we got here, long poles had been put up on stakes all along each side of, and close to, the tents, and to these the guy ropes of both tents and "fly" covers had been securely fastened, all of which had prevented much flopping of canvas. Dirt had been banked all around the base of the tents, so with a very little fire we could be warm and fairly comfortable.

The wind seemed to get worse every minute, and once in a while there would be a loud "boom" when a big Sibley tent would be ripped open, and then would come yells from the men as they scrambled after their belongings. After it became dark it seemed dismal, but Faye would not go in a building, and I would not leave him alone to hold the stove down. This was our only care and annoyance. It was intensely cold, and in order to have a fire we were compelled to hold the pipe down on the little conical camp stove, for with the flopping of the tent and fly, the pipe was in constant motion. Faye would hold it for a while, then I would relieve him, and so on. The holding-down business was very funny for an hour or two, but in time it became monotonous.

We got through the night very well, but did not sleep much. The tearing and snapping of tents, and the shouting of the men when a tent would fall upon them was heard frequently, and when we looked out in the morning the camp had the appearance of having been struck by a cyclone! Two thirds of the tents were flat on the ground, others were badly torn, and the unfinished log quarters only added to the desolation. Snow was over everything ten or twelve inches deep. But the wind had gone down and the atmosphere was wonderfully clear, and sparkling, and full of frost.

Dinner the evening before had not been a success, so we were very prompt to the nice hot breakfast Charlie gave us. That Chinaman has certainly been a great comfort on this trip. The doctor came over looking cross and sick. He said at once that we had been wise in remaining in our comfortable tents, that everybody in the log houses was sneezing and complaining of stiff joints. The logs have not been chinked yet, and, as might have been expected, wind and snow swept through them. The stoves have not been set up, so even one fire was impossible. Two or three of their tents did go down, however, the doctor's included, and perhaps they were safer in a breezy house, after all.

The mail has been held back, and will start with us. The time of going was determined at Department Headquarters, and we will have to leave here on the first--day after to-morrow--if such a thing is possible. We return by the way of Benton. It is perfectly exasperating to see prairie chicken all around us on the snow. Early this morning there was a large covey up in a tree just across the creek from our tent, looking over at us in a most insolent manner. They acted as though they knew there was not a shotgun within a hundred miles of them. They were perfectly safe, for everyone was too nearly frozen to trouble them with a rifle.

Camping on the snow will not be pleasant, and we regret very much that the storm came just at this time. Charlie is busy cooking all sorts of things for the trip, so he will not have much to do on the little camp stove. He is a treasure, but says that he wishes we could stay here; that he does not want to return to Fort Shaw. This puzzles me very much, as there are so many Chinamen at Shaw and not one here. The doctor will not go back with us, as he has received orders to remain at this post during the winter.

THE past few days have been busy ones. The house has received much needed attention and camp things have been looked over and put away, ready for the next move. The trip back was a disappointment to me and not at all pleasant. The wagons were very lightly loaded, so the men rode in them all the way, and we came about forty miles each day, the mules keeping up a steady slow trot. Of course I could not ride those distances at that gait, therefore I was compelled to come in the old, jerky ambulance.

The snow was still deep when we left Maginnis, and at the first camp snow had to be swept from the ground where our tent was pitched. But after that the weather was warm and sunny. We saw the greatest number of feathered game--enormous flocks of geese, brant, and ducks. Our camp one night was near a small lake just the other side of Benton, and at dusk hundreds of geese came and lit on the water, until it looked like one big mass of live, restless things, and the noise was deafening. Some of the men shot at them with rifles, but the geese did not seem to mind much.

Charlie told me at Maginnis that he did not want to return to Shaw, and I wondered at that so many times. I went in the kitchen two miserable mornings back and found him sitting down looking unhappy and disconsolate. I do not remember to have ever seen a Chinaman sitting down that way before, and was afraid he might be sick, but he said at once and without preamble, "Me go 'way!" He saw my look of surprise and said again, "Me go 'way--Missee Bulk's Chinee-man tellee me go 'way." I said, "But, Charlie, Lee has no right to tell you to go; I want you to stay." He hesitated one second, then said in the most mournful of voices, "Yes, me know, me feel vellee blad, but Lee, he tellee me go--he no likee mason-man." No amount of persuasion could induce him to stay, and that evening after dinner he packed his bedding on his back and went away--to the Crossing, I presume. Charlie called himself a mason, and has a book that he made himself which he said was a "mason-man blook," but I learned yesterday that he is a "high-binder," no mason at all, and for that reason the Chinamen in the garrison would not permit him to remain here. They were afraid of him, yet he seemed so very trustworthy in every way. But a highbinder in one's own house!

There has been another departure from the family--Bettie has been sold! Lieutenant Warren wanted her to match a horse he had recently bought. The two make a beautiful little team, and Bettie is already a great pet, and I am glad of that, of course, but I do not see the necessity of Lieutenant Warren's giving her sugar right in front of our windows! His quarters are near ours. He says that Bettie made no objections to the harness, but drove right off with her mate.

There was a distressing occurrence in the garrison yesterday that I cannot forget. At all army posts the prisoners do the rough work, such as bringing the wood and water, keeping the yards tidy, bringing the ice, and so on. Yesterday morning one of the general prisoners here escaped from the sentry guarding him. The long-roll was beaten, and as this always means that something is wrong and calls out all the troops, officers and men, I ran out on the porch to see what was the matter, fearing there might be a fire some place. It seemed a long time before the companies got in line, and then I noticed that instead of fire buckets they were carrying rifles. Directly every company started off on double time and disappeared in between two sets of barracks at one corner of the parade ground. Then everything was unusually quiet; not a human being to be seen except the sentry at the guardhouse, who was walking post.

It was pleasant, so I sat down, still feeling curious about the trouble that was serious enough to call out all the troops. It was not so very long before Lieutenant Todd, who was officer of the day, came from the direction the companies had gone, pistol in hand, and in front of him was a man with ball and chain. That means that his feet were fastened together by a large chain, just long enough to permit him to take short steps, and to that short chain was riveted a long one, at the end of which was a heavy iron ball hanging below his belt. When we see a prisoner carrying a ball and chain we know that he is a deserter, or that he has done something very bad, which will probably send him to the penitentiary, for these balls are never put on a prisoner who has only a short time in the guardhouse.

The prisoner yesterday--who seemed to be a young man--walked slowly to the guardhouse, the officer of the day following closely. Going up the steps and on in the room to a cot, he unfastened the ball from his belt and let it thunder down on the floor, and then throwing himself down on the cot, buried his face in the blankets, an awful picture of woe and despair. On the walk by the door, and looking at him with contempt, stood a splendid specimen of manhood--erect, broad-chested, with clear, honest eyes and a weather-beaten face--a typical soldier of the United States Army, and such as he, the prisoner inside might have become in time. Our house is separated from the guardhouse by a little park only, and I could plainly see the whole thing--the strong man and the weakling.

In the meantime, bugles had called the men back to quarters, and very soon I learned all about the wretched affair. The misguided young man had deserted once before, was found guilty by a general court-martial, and sentenced to the penitentiary at Leavenworth for the regulation time for such an offense, and to-morrow morning he was to have started for the prison. Now he has to stand a second court-martial, and serve a double sentence for desertion!

He was so silly about it too. The prisoners were at the large ice house down by the river, getting ice out for the daily delivery. There were sentinels over them, of course, but in some way that man managed to sneak over the ice through the long building to an open door, through which he dropped down to the ground, and then he ran. He was missed almost instantly and the alarm given, but the companies were sent to the lowland along the river, where there are bushes, for there seemed to be no other place where he could possibly secrete himself.

The officer of the day is responsible, in a way, for the prisoners, so of course Lieutenant Todd went to the ice house to find out the cause of the trouble, and on his way back he accidentally passed an old barrel-shaped water wagon. Not a sound was heard, but something told him to look inside. He had to climb up on a wheel in order to get high enough to look through the little square opening at the top, but he is a tall man and could just see in, and peering down he saw the wretched prisoner huddled at one end, looking more like an animal than a human being. He ordered him to come out, and marched him to the guardhouse.

It was a strange coincidence, but the officer of the day happened to have been promoted from the ranks, had served his three years as an enlisted man, and then passed a stiff examination for a commission. One could see by his walk that he had no sympathy for the mother's baby. He knew from experience that a soldier's life is not hard unless the soldier himself makes it so. The service and discipline develop all the good qualities of the man, give him an assurance and manly courage he might never possess otherwise, and best of all, he learns to respect law and order.

The Army is not a rough place, and neither are the men starved or abused, as many mothers seem to think. Often the company commanders receive the most pitiful letters from mothers of enlisted men, beseeching them to send their boys back to them, that they are being treated like dogs, dying of starvation, and so on. As though these company commanders did not know all about those boys and the life they had to live.

It is such a pity that these mothers cannot be made to realize that army discipline, regular hours, and plain army food is just what those "boys" need to make men of them. Judging by several letters I have read, sent to officers by mothers of soldiers, I am inclined to believe that weak mothers in many cases are responsible for the desertion of their weak sons. They sap all manhood from them by "coddling" as they grow up, and send them out in the world wholly unequal to a vigorous life--a life without pie and cake at every meal. Well! I had no intention of moralizing this way, but I have written only the plain truth.

THERE has been quite a little flutter of excitement in the garrison during the past week brought about by a short visit from the Marquis of Lome and his suite. As governor general of Canada, he had been inspecting his own military posts, and then came on down across the line to Shaw, en rozite to Dillon, where he will take the cars for the East. Colonel Knight is in command, so it fell upon him to see that Lord Lome was properly provided for, which he did by giving up absolutely for his use his own elegantly furnished quarters. Lord Lome took possession at once and quietly dined there that evening with one or two of his staff, and Colonel Knight as his guest.

The members of the suite were entertained by different officers of the garrison, and Captain Percival of the Second Life Guards was our guest. They were escorted across the line to this post by a company of Canadian mounted police, and a brave appearance those redcoats made as they rode on the parade ground and formed two lines through which the governor general and his staff rode, with the booming of cannon. Colonel Knight went out to meet them, escorted by our mounted infantry in command of Lieutenant Todd.

The horses of the mounted police were very small, and inferior in every way to the animals one would expect the Canadian government to provide, and it did look very funny to see the gorgeously dressed police with their jaunty, side-tilted caps riding such wretched little beasts!

Our officers were on the parade to receive the governor general, and the regimental band was there also, playing all sorts of things. Presently, without stop, and as though it was the continuation of a melody, the first notes of "God Save the Queen" were heard. Instantly the head of every Englishman and Canadian was uncovered--quietly, and without ostentation or slightest break in hand-shaking and talking. It was like a military movement by bugle call! Some of us who were looking on through filmy curtains thought it a beautiful manifestation of loving loyalty. They were at a military post of another nation, in the midst of being introduced to its officers, yet not one failed to remember and to remind, that he was an Englishman ever!

Mrs. Gordon saved me the worry of preparing an elaborate dinner at this far-away place, by inviting us and our guest to dine with her and her guests. I am inclined to think that this may have been a shrewd move on the part of the dear friend, so she could have Hang to assist her own cook at her dinner. It was a fine arrangement, at all events, and pleased me most of all. I made the salad and arranged the table for her. Judging from what I saw and heard, Hang was having a glorious time. He had evidently frightened the old colored cook into complete idiocy, and was ordering her about in a way that only a Chinaman knows.

The dinner was long, but delicious and enjoyable in every way. Lord Bagot, the Rev. Dr. MacGregor, Captain Chater, and others of the governor general's staff were there--sixteen of us in all. Captain Percival sat at my right, of course, and the amount he ate was simply appalling! And the appetites of Lord Bagot and the others were equally fine. Course after course disappeared from their plates--not a scrap left on them--until one wondered how it was managed. Soon after dinner everyone went to Colonel Knight's quarters, where Lord Lome was holding a little reception. He is a charming man, very simple in his manner, and one could hardly believe that he is the son-in-law of a great queen and heir to a splendid dukedom.

He had announced that he would start at ten o'clock the next morning, so I ordered breakfast at nine. A mounted escort from the post was to go with him to Dillon in command of Faye. It has always seemed so absurd and really unkind for Americans to put aside our own ways and customs when entertaining foreigners, and bore them with wretched representations of things of their own country, thereby preventing them from seeing life as it is here. So I decided to give our English captain an out and out American breakfast--not long, or elaborate, but dainty and nicely served. And I invited Miss Mills to meet him, to give it a little life.

Well, nine o'clock came, so did Miss Mills, so did half after nine come, and then, finally ten o'clock, but Captain Percival did not come! I was becoming very cross--for half an hour before I had sent Hang up to call him, knowing that he and Faye also, were obliged to be ready to start at ten o'clock. I was worried, too, fearing that Faye would have to go without any breakfast at all. Of course the nice little breakfast was ruined! Soon after ten, however, our guest came down and apologized very nicely--said that the bed was so very delightful be simply could not leave it. Right there I made a mental resolution to the effect that if ever a big Englishman should come to my house to remain overnight, I would have just one hour of delight taken from that bed!

To my great amusement, also pleasure. Captain Percival ate heartily of everything, and kept on eating, and with such apparent relish I began to think that possibly it might be another case of "delight," and finally to wonder if Hang had anything in reserve. Once he said, "What excellent cooks you have here!" This made Miss Mills smile, for she knew that Hang had been loaned out the evening before. Faye soon left us to attend to matters in connection with the trip, but the three of us were having a very merry time--for Captain Percival was a most charming man--when in the room came Captain Chater, his face as black as the proverbial thundercloud, and after speaking to me, looked straight and reprovingly at Captain Percival and said, "You are keeping his excellency waiting!" That was like a bomb to all, and in two seconds the English captains had shaken hands and were gone.

The mounted police are still in the post, and I suspect that this is because their commander is having such a pleasant time driving and dining with his hostess, who is one of our most lovely and fascinating women. I received a note from Faye this morning from Helena. He says that so far the trip has been delightful, and that in every way and by all he is being treated as an honored guest. Lord Lome declined a large reception in Helena, because the United States is in mourning for its murdered President. What an exquisite rebuke to some of our ignorant Americans! Faye writes that Lord Lome and members of his staff are constantly speaking in great praise of the officers' wives at Shaw, and have asked if the ladies throughout the Army are as charming and cultured as those here.

Our young horses are really very handsome now, and their red coats are shining from good grooming and feeding. They are large, and perfectly matched in size, color, and gait, as they should be, since they are half brothers. I am learning to drive now, a single horse, and find it very interesting--but not one half as delightful as riding--I miss a saddle horse dreadfully. Now and then I ride George--my own horse--but he always reminds me that his proper place is in the harness, by making his gait just as rough as possible.

YOU will be greatly surprised to hear that Faye has gone to Washington! His father is very ill--so dangerously so that a thirty-days' leave was telegraphed Faye from Department Headquarters, without his having applied for it so as to enable him to get to Admiral Rae without delay. Some one in Washington must have asked for the leave. It takes so long for letters to reach us from the East that one never knows what may be taking place there. Faye started on the next stage to Helena and at Dillon will take the cars for Washington.

Faye went away the night before the entertainment, which made it impossible for me to be in the pantomime "Villikens and Dinah," so little Miss Gordon took my place and acted remarkably well, notwithstanding she had rehearsed only twice. The very stage that carried Faye from the post, brought to us Mr. Hughes of Benton for a few days. But this turned out very nicely, for Colonel and Mrs. Mills, who know him well, were delighted to have him go to them, and there he is now. The next day I invited Miss Mills and Mr. Hughes to dine with me informally, and while I was in the dining room attending to the few pieces of extra china and silver that would be required for dinner (a Chinaman has no idea of the fitness of things), Volmer, our striker, came in and said to me that he would like to take the horses and the single buggy out for an hour or so, as he wanted to show them to a friend.

I saw at once that he and I were to have our usual skirmish. There is one, always, whenever Faye is away any length of time. The man has a frightful temper, and a year ago shot and killed a deserter. He was acquitted by military court, and later by civil court, both courts deciding that the shooting was accidental. But the deserter was a catholic and Volmer is a quaker, so the feeling in the company was so hostile toward him that for several nights he was put in the guardhouse for protection. Then Faye took him as striker, and has befriended him in many ways. But those colts he could not drive. So I told him that the horses could not go out during the lieutenant's absence, unless I went with them. He became angry at once, and said that it was the first team he had ever taken care of that he was not allowed to drive as often as he pleased. A big story, of course, but I said to him quietly, "You heard what I said, Volmer, and further discussion will be quite useless. You were never permitted to take the colts out when Lieutenant Rae was here, and now that he is away, you certainly cannot do so." And I turned back to my spoons and forks.

Volmer went out of the room, but I had an uncomfortable feeling that matters were not settled. In a short time I became conscious of loud talking in the kitchen, and could distinctly hear Volmer using most abusive language about Faye and me. That was outrageous and not to be tolerated a second, and without stopping to reason that it would be better not to hear, and let the man talk his anger off, out to the kitchen I went. I found Volmer perched upon one end of a large wood box that stands close to a door that leads out to a shed. I said: "Volmer, I heard what you have been saying, as you intended I should, and now I tell you to go out of this house and stay out, until you can speak respectfully of Lieutenant Rae and of me." But he sat still and looked sullen and stubborn. I said again, "Go out, and out; of the yard too." But he did not move one inch.

By that time I was furious, and going to the door that was so close to the man he could have struck me, I opened it wide, and pointing out with outstretched arm I said, "You go instantly!" and instantly he went. Chinamen are awful cowards, and with the first word I said to the soldier, Hang had shuffled to his own room, and there he had remained until he heard Volmer go out of the house. Then he came back, and looking at me with an expression of the most solemn pity, said, "He vellee blad man--he killee man--he killee you, meb-bee!" The poor little heathen was evidently greatly disturbed, and so was I, too. Not because I was at all afraid of being killed, but because of the two spirited young horses that still required most careful handling. And Faye might be away several months! I knew that the commanding officer, also the quartermaster, would look after them and do everything possible to assist me, but at the same time I knew that there was not a man in the post who could take Volmer's place with the horses. He is a splendid whip and perfect groom. I could not send them to Mr. Vaughn's to run, as they had been blanketed for a long time, and the weather was cold.

Of course I cried a little, but I knew that I had done quite right, that it was better for me to regulate my own affairs than to call upon the company commander to do so for me. I returned to the dining room, but soon there was a gentle knock on the door, and opening it, I saw Volmer standing in front of me, cap in hand, looking very meek and humble. Very respectfully he apologized, and expressed his regret at having offended me. That was very pleasant, but knowing the man's violent temper, and thinking of coming days, I proceeded to deliver a lecture to the effect that there was not another enlisted man in the regiment who would use such language in our house, or be so ungrateful for kindness that we had shown him. Above all, to make it unpleasant for me when I was alone.

I was so nervous, and talking to a soldier that way was so very disagreeable, I might have broken down and cried again--an awful thing to have done at that time--if I had not happened to have seen Hang's head sticking out at one side of his door. He had run to his room again, but could not resist keeping watch to see if Volmer was really intending to "killee" me. He is afraid of the soldier, and consequently hates him. Soon after he came, Volmer, who is a powerful man, tied him down to his bed with a picket rope, and such yells of fury and terror were never heard, and when I ran out to see what on earth was the matter, the Chinaman's eyes were green, and he was frothing at the mouth. For days after I was afraid that Hang would do some mischief to the man.

It is the striker's duty always to attend to the fires throughout the house, and this Volmer is doing very nicely. But when Faye went away he told Hang to take good care of me--so he, also, fixes the fires, and at the same time shows his dislike for Volmer, who will bring the big wood in and make the fires as they should be. Just as soon as he goes out, however, in marches Hang, with one or two small pieces of wood on his silk sleeve, and then, with much noise, he turns the wood in the stove upside down, and stirs things up generally, after which he will put in the little sticks and let it all roar until I am quite as stirred up as the fire. After he closes the dampers he will say to me in his most amiable squeak, "Me flixee him--he vellee glood now." This is all very nice as long as the house does not burn.

Night before last Mrs. Mills invited me to a family dinner. Colonel Mills was away, but Mr. Hughes was there, also Lieutenant Harvey to whom Miss Mills is engaged, and the three Mills boys, making a nice little party. But I felt rather sad--Faye was still en route to Washington, and going farther from home every hour, and it was impossible to tell when he would return, Mrs. Mills seemed distraite, too, when I first got to the house, but she soon brightened up and was as animated as ever. The dinner was perfect. Colonel Mills is quite an epicure, and he and Mrs. Mills have a reputation for serving choice and dainty things on their table. We returned to the little parlor after dinner, and were talking and laughing, when something went bang! like the hard shutting of a door.

Mrs. Mills jumped up instantly and exclaimed, "I knew it--I knew it!" and rushed to the back part of the house, the rest of us running after her. She went on through to the Chinaman's room, and there, on his cot, lay the little man, his face even then the color of old ivory. He had fired a small Derringer straight to his heart and was quite dead. I did not like to look at the dying man, so I ran for the doctor and almost bumped against him at the gate as he was passing. There was nothing that he could do, however.

Mrs. Mills told us that Sam had been an inveterate gambler--that he had won a great deal of money from the soldiers, particularly one, who had that very day threatened to kill him, accusing the Chinaman of having cheated. The soldier probably had no intention of doing anything of the kind, but said it to frighten the timid heathen, just for revenge. Sam had eaten a little dinner, and was eating ice-cream, evidently, when something or somebody made him go to his room and shoot himself. The next morning the Chinamen in the garrison buried him--not in the post cemetery, but just outside. Upon the grave they laid one or two suits of clothing, shoes--all Chinese, of course--and a great quantity of food--much of it their own fruits. That was for his spirit until it reached the Happy Land. The coyotes ate the food, but a Chinaman would never believe that, so more food was taken out this morning.

They are such a queer people! Hang's breakfast usually consists of a glass of cold water with two or three lumps of sugar dissolved in it and a piece of bread broken in it also. When it is necessary for Hang to be up late and do much extra work, I always give him a can of salmon, of which he seems very fond--or a chicken, and tell him to invite one or two friends to sit with him. This smooths away all little frowns and keeps things pleasant. Volmer killed the chicken once, and Hang brought it to me with eyes blazing--said it was poor--and "He ole-ee hin," so I found that the only way to satisfy the suspicious man was to let him select his own fowl. He always cooks it in the one way--boils it with Chinese fruits and herbs, and with the head and feet on--and I must admit that the odor is appetizing. But I have never tasted it, although Hang has never failed to save a nice piece for me. He was with Mrs. Pierce two years, and it was some time before I could convince him that this house was regulated my way and not hers. Major Pierce was promoted to another regiment and we miss them very much.

THE garrison seems lonesome since the two companies have been out, and I am beginning to feel that I am at home alone quite too much. Faye was in Washington two months, and almost immediately after he got back he was ordered to command the paymaster's escort from Helena here, and now he is off again for the summer! The camp is on Birch Creek not far from the Piegan Agency. The agents become frightened every now and then, and ask for troops, more because they know the Indians would be justified in giving trouble than because there is any.

An officer is sent from the post to inspect all the cattle and rations that are issued to them--yet there is much cheating. Once it was discovered that a very inferior brand of flour was being given the Indians--that sacks with the lettering and marks of the brand the government was supposed to issue to them had been slipped over the sacks which really held the inferior flour, and carefully tied. Just imagine the trouble some one had taken, but there had been a fat reward, of course, and then, where had those extra sacks come from--where had the fine flour gone?

Some one could have explained it all. I must admit, however, that anyone who has seen an Indian use flour would say that the most inferior grade would be good enough for them, to be mixed in dirty old pans, with still dirtier hands. This lack of cleanliness and appreciation of things by the Indians makes stealing from them very tempting.

The very night after the troops had gone out there was an excitement in the garrison, and, as usual, I was mixed up in it, not through my own choosing, however. I had been at Mrs. Palmer's playing whist during the evening, and about eleven o'clock two of the ladies came down to the house with me. The night was the very darkest I ever saw, and of this we spoke as we came along the walk. Almost all the lights were out in the officers' quarters, making the whole post seem dismal, and as I came in the house and locked the door, I felt as if I could never remain here until morning. Hang was in his room, of course but would be no protection whatever if anything should happen.

Major and Mrs. Stokes have not yet returned from the East, so the adjoining house is unoccupied, and on my right is Mrs. Norton, who is alone also, as Doctor Norton is in camp with the troops. She had urged me to go to her house for the night, but I did not go, because of the little card party. I ran upstairs as though something evil was at my heels and bolted my door, but did not fasten the dormer windows that run out on the roof in front. Before retiring, I put a small, lighted lantern in a closet and left the door open just a little, thinking that the streak of light would be cheering and the lantern give me a light quickly if I should need one.

Our breakfast had been very early that morning, on account of the troops marching, and I was tired and fell asleep immediately, I think. After a while I was conscious of hearing some one walking about in the room corresponding to mine in the next house, but I dozed on, thinking to myself that there was no occasion for feeling nervous, as the people next door were still up. But suddenly I remembered that the house was closed, and just then I distinctly heard some one go down the stairs. I kept very still and listened, but heard nothing more and soon went to sleep again, but again I was awakened--this time by queer noises--like some one walking on a roof. There were voices, too, as if some one was mumbling to himself.

I got the revolver and ran to the middle of the room, where I stood ready to shoot or run--it would probably have been run--in any direction. I finally got courage to look through a side window, feeling quite sure that Mrs. Norton was out with her Chinaman, looking after some choice little chickens left in her care by the doctor. But not one light was to be seen in any place, and the inky blackness was awful to look upon, so I turned away, and just as I did so, something cracked and rattled down over the shingles and then fell to the ground. But which roof those sounds came from was impossible to tell. With "goose flesh" on my arms, and each hair on my head trying to stand up, I went back to the middle of the room, and there I stood, every nerve quivering.

I had been standing there hours--or possibly it was only two short minutes--when there was one loud, piercing shriek, that made me almost scream, too. But after it was perfect silence, so I said to myself that probably it had been a cat--that I was nervous and silly. But there came another shriek, another, and still another, so expressive of terror that the blood almost froze in my veins. With teeth chattering and limbs shaking so I could hardly step, I went to a front window, and raising it I screamed, "Corporal of the guard!"

I saw the sentinel at the guardhouse stop, as though listening, in front of a window where there was a light, and seeing one of the guard gave strength to my voice, and I called again. That time the sentry took it up, and yelled, "Corporal of the guard, No. 1!" Instantly lanterns were seen coming in our direction--ever so many of the guard came, and to our gate as they saw me at a window. But I sent them on to the next house where they found poor Mrs. Norton in a white heap on the grass, quite unconscious.

The officer of the day was still up and came running to see what the commotion was about--and several other officers came. Colonel Gregory, a punctilious gentleman of the old school--who is in command just now--appeared in a striking costume, consisting of a skimpy evening gown of white, a dark military blouse over that, and a pair of military riding boots, and he carried an unsheathed saber. He is very tall and thin and his hair is very white, and I laugh now when I think of how funny he looked. But no one thought of laughing at that time. Mrs. Norton was carried in, and her house searched throughout. No one was found, but burned matches were on the floor of one or two rooms, which gave evidence that some one had been there.

In the yard back of the house a pair of heavy overshoes, also government socks, were found, so it was decided that the man had climbed up on the roof and entered the house through a dormer window that had not been fastened. No one would look for the piece of shingle that night, but in the morning I found it on the ground close to the house.

All the time the search was being made I had been in the window. Colonel Mills insisted that I should go to his house for the remainder of the night, but suggested that I put some clothes on first! It occurred to me then, for the first time, that my own costume was rather striking--not quite the proper thing for a balcony scene. Everyone was more than kind, but for a long time after Miss Mills and I had gone to her room my teeth chattered and big tears rolled down my face. Mrs. Norton declares that I was more frightened than she was, and I say, "Yes, probably, but you did not stop to listen to your own horrible screams, and then, after making us believe that you were being murdered, you quietly dropped into oblivion and forgot the whole thing."

Just as the entire garrison had become quiet once more--bang! went a gun, and then again we heard people running about to see what was the matter, and if the burglar had been caught. But it proved to have been the accidental going off of a rifle at the guardhouse. The instant that Colonel Gregory ascertained that a soldier had really been in Mrs. Norton's house, check roll-call was ordered--that is, the officer of the day went to the different barracks and ordered the first sergeants to get the men up and call the roll at once, without warning or preparation. In that way it was ascertained if the men were on their cots or out of quarters. But that night every man was "present or accounted for." At the hospital, roll-call was not necessary, but they found an attendant playing possum! A lantern held close to his face did not waken him, although it made his eyelids twitch, and they found that his heart was beating at a furious rate. His clothes had been thrown down on the floor, but socks were not to be found with them.

So he is the man suspected.. He will get his discharge in three days, and it is thought that he was after a suit of citizen clothes of the doctor's. Not so very long ago he was their striker. No one in the garrison has ever heard of an enlisted man troubling the quarters of an officer, and it is something that rarely occurs. I spend every night with Mrs. Norton now, who seems to have great confidence in my ability to protect her, as I can use a revolver so well. She calmly sleeps on, while I remain awake listening for footsteps. The fact of my having been at a military post when it was attacked by Indians--that a man was murdered directly under my window, when I heard every shot, every moan--and my having had two unpleasant experiences with horse thieves, has not been conducive to normal nerves after dark.

During all the commotion at Mrs. Norton's the night the man got in her house, her Chinaman did not appear. One of the officers went to his room in search of the burglar and found him--the Chinaman--sitting up in his bed, almost white from fear. He confessed to having heard some one in the kitchen, and when asked why he did not go out to see who it was, indignantly replied, "What for?--he go way, what for I see him?"

I feel completely upset without a good saddle horse. George is developing quite a little speed in single harness, but I do not care for driving--feel too much as though I was part of the little buggy instead of the horse. Major and Mrs. Stokes are expected soon from the East, and I shall be so glad to have my old neighbors back.

BY this time you must have become accustomed to getting letters from all sorts of out-of-the-way places, therefore I will not weary you with long explanations, but simply say that Major Stokes and Faye sent for Mrs. Stokes and me to come to camp, thinking to give us a pleasant little outing. We came over with the paymaster and his escort. Major Carpenter seemed delighted to have us with him, and naturally Mrs. Stokes and I were in a humor to enjoy everything. We brought a nice little luncheon with us for everybody--that is, everyone in the ambulance. The escort of enlisted men were in a wagon back of us, but the officer in charge was with us.

The Indians have quieted down, and several of the officers have gone on leave, so with the two companies now here there are only Major Stokes, who is in command, Faye, Lieutenant Todd, and Doctor Norton. Mrs. Stokes has seen much of camp life, and enjoys it now and then as much as I do. The importance of our husbands as hosts--their many efforts to make us comfortable and entertain us--is amusing, yet very lovely. They give us no rest whatever, but as soon as we return from one little excursion another is immediately proposed. There is a little spring wagon in camp with two seats, and there are two fine mules to pull it, and with this really comfortable turn-out we drive about the country. Major Stokes is military inspector of supplies at this agency, and every Piegan knows him, so when we meet Indians, as we do often, there is always a powwow.

Three days ago we packed the little wagon with wraps and other things, and Major and Mrs. Stokes, Faye, and I started for a two days' outing at a little lake that is nestled far up on the side of a mountain. It is about ten miles from here. There is only a wagon trail leading to it, and as you go on up and up, and see nothing but rocks and trees, it would never occur to you that the steep slope of the mountain could be broken, that a lake of good size could be hidden on its side. You do not get a glimpse of it once, until you drive between the bushes and boulders that border its banks, and then it is all before you in amazing beauty. The reflections are wonderful, the high lights showing with exquisite sharpness against the dark green and purple depths of the clear, spring water.

The lake is fearfully deep--the Indians insist that in places it is bottomless--and it is teeming with trout, the most delicious mountain trout that can be caught any place, and which come up so cold one can easily fancy there is an iceberg somewhere down below. Some of these fish are fourteen or more inches long.

It was rather late in the afternoon when we reached the lake, so we hurriedly got ourselves ready for fishing, for we were thinking of a trout dinner. Four enlisted men had followed us with a wagon, in which were our tents, bedding, and boxes of provisions, and these men busied themselves at once by putting up the little tents and making preparations for dinner, and we were anxious to get enough fish for their dinner as well as our own. At a little landing we found two row-boats, and getting in these we were soon out on the lake.

If one goes to Fish Lake just for sport, and can be contented with taking in two or three fish during an all day's hard work, flies should be used always, but if one gets up there when the shadows are long and one's dinner is depending upon the fish caught, one might as well begin at once with grasshoppers--at least, that is what I did. I carried a box of fine yellow grasshoppers up with me, and I cast one over before the boat had fairly settled in position. It was seized the instant it had touched the water, and down, down went the trout, its white sides glistening through the clear water. For some reason still unaccountable I let it go, and yard after yard of line was reeled out. Perhaps, after all, it was fascination that kept me from stopping the plunge of the fish, that never stopped until the entire line was let out. That brought me to my senses, and I reeled the fish up and got a fine trout, but I also got at the same time an uncontrollable longing for land. To be in a leaky, shaky old boat over a watery, bottomless pit, as the one that trout had been down in, was more than I could calmly endure, so with undisguised disgust Faye rowed me back to the landing, where I caught quite as many fish as anyone out in the boats.

One of the enlisted men prepared dinner for us, and fried the trout in olive oil, the most perfect way of cooking mountain trout in camp. They were delicious--so fresh from the icy water that none of their delicate flavor had been lost, and were crisp and hot. We had cups of steaming coffee and all sorts of nice things from the boxes we had brought from the post. A flat boulder made a grand table for us, and of course each one had his little camp stool to sit upon. Altogether the dinner was a success, the best part of it being, perhaps, the exhilarating mountain air that gave us such fine appetites, and a keen appreciation of everything ludicrous.

While we were fishing, our tents had been arranged for us in real soldier fashion. Great bunches of long grass had been piled up on each side underneath the little mattresses, which raised the beds from the ground and made them soft and springy. Those "A" tents are very small and low, and it is impossible to stand up in one except in the center under the ridgepole, for the canvas is stretched from the ridgepole to the ground, so the only walls are back and front, where there is an opening. I had never been in one before and was rather appalled at its limitations, and neither had I ever slept on the ground before, but I had gone prepared for a rough outing. Besides, I knew that everything possible had been done to make Mrs. Stokes and me comfortable. The air was chilly up on the mountain, but we had any number of heavy blankets that kept us warm.

The night was glorious with brilliant moonlight, and the shadows of the pine trees on the white canvas were black and wonderfully clear cut, as the wind swayed the branches back and forth. The sounds of the wind were dismal, soughing and moaning as all mountain winds do, and made me think of the Bogy-man and other things. I found myself wondering if anything could crawl under the tent at my side. I wondered if snakes could have been brought in with the grass. I imagined that I heard things moving about, but all the time I was watching those exquisite shadows of the pine needles in a dreamy sort of way.

Then all at once I saw the shadow of one, then three, things as they ran up the canvas and darted this way and that like crazy things, and which could not possibly have grown on a pine tree. And almost at the same instant, something pulled my hair! With a scream and scramble I was soon out of that tent, but of course when I moved all those things had moved, too, and wholly disappeared. So I was called foolish to be afraid in a tent after the weeks and months I had lived in camp. But just then Mrs. Stokes ran from her tent, Major Stokes slowly following, and then it came out that there had been trouble over there also, and that I was not the only one in disgrace. Mrs. Stokes had seen queer shadows on her canvas, and coming to me, said, "Will says those things are squirrels!" That was too much, and I replied with indignation, "They are not squirrels at all; they are too small and their tails are not bushy."

Well, there was a time! We refused absolutely, positively, to go back to our tents until we knew all about those darting shadows. We saw that those two disagreeable men had an understanding with each other and were much inclined to laugh. It was cold and our wrappers not very warm, but Mrs. Stokes and I finally sat down upon some camp stools to await events. Then Faye, who can never resist an opportunity to tease, said to me, "You had better take care, mice might run up that stool!" So the cat was out! I have never been afraid of mice, and have always considered it very silly in women to make such a fuss over them. But those field mice were different; they seemed inclined to take the very hair from your head. Of course we could not sit up all night, and after a time had to return to our tents. I wrapped my head up securely, so my hair could not be carried off without my knowing something about it. Ever so many times during the night I heard talking and smothered laughter, and concluded that the soldiers also were having small visitors with four swift little legs.

We had more delicious trout for our breakfast; that time fried with tiny strips of breakfast bacon. The men had been out on the lake very early, and had caught several dozen beautiful fish. The dinner the evening before had been much like an ordinary picnic, but the early breakfast up on the side of a mountain, with big boulders all around, was something to remember. One can never imagine the deliciousness of the air at sunrise up on the Rocky Mountains, It has to be breathed to be appreciated.

Everyone fished during the morning and many fish were caught, every one of which were carefully packed in wet grass and brought to Birch Creek, to the unfortunates who had not been on that most delightful trip to Fish Lake. After luncheon we came down from the mountain and drove to the Piegan Agency. The heavy wagon came directly to camp, of course. There is nothing remarkable to be seen at the agency--just a number of ordinary buildings, a few huts, and Indians standing around the door of a store that resembles a post trader's. Every Indian had on a blanket, although Major Stokes said there were several among them who had been to the Carlisle School.

Along the road before we reached the agency, and for some distance after we had left it, we passed a number of little one-room log huts occupied by Indians, often with two squaws and large families of children; and at some of these we saw wretched attempts at gardening. Those Indians are provided with plows, spades, and all sorts of implements necessary for the making of proper gardens, and they are given grain and seeds to plant, but seldom are any of these things made use of. An Indian scorns work of any kind--that is only for squaws. The squaws will scratch up a bit of ground with sticks, put a little seed in, and then leave it for the sun and rain to do with as it sees fit. No more attention will be paid to it, and half the time the seed is not covered.

One old chief raised some wheat one year--I presume his squaws did all the work--and he gathered several sackfuls, which was made into flour at the agency mill. The chief was very proud. But when the next quarterly issue came around, his ration of flour was lessened just the amount his wheat had made, which decided all future farming for him! Why should he, a chief, trouble himself about learning to farm and then gain nothing in the end! There is a fine threshing machine at the agency, but the Indians will have nothing whatever to do with it. They cannot understand its workings and call it the "Devil Machine."

As we were nearing the Indian village across the creek from us, we came to a most revolting spectacle. Two or three Indians had just killed an ox, and were slashing and cutting off pieces of the almost quivering flesh, in a way that left little pools of blood in places on the side. There were two squaws with them, squatted on the ground by the dead animal, and those hideous, fiendish creatures were scooping up the warm blood with their hands and greedily drinking it! Can one imagine anything more horrible? We stopped only a second, but the scene was too repulsive to be forgotten. It makes me shiver even now when I think of the flashing of those big knives and of how each one of the savages seemed to be reveling in the smell and taste of blood! I feel that they could have slashed and cut into one of us with the same relish. It was much like seeing a murder committed.

Major Stokes told us last evening that when he returned from the East a few weeks ago, he discovered that one of a pair of beautiful pistols that had been presented to him had been stolen, that some one had gone upstairs and taken it out of the case that was in a closet corresponding to mine, so that accounts for the footsteps I heard in that house the night the man entered Mrs. Norton's house. But how did the man know just where to get a pistol? The hospital attendant who was suspected that night got his discharge a few days later. He stayed around the garrison so long that finally Colonel Gregory ordered him to leave the reservation, and just before coming from the post we heard that he had shot a man and was in jail. A very good place for him, I think.

We expect to return to the post in a few days. I would like to remain longer, but as everybody and everything will go, I can't very well. The trout fishing in Birch Creek is very good, and I often go for a little fish, sometimes alone and sometimes Mrs. Stokes will go with me. I do not go far, because of the dreadful Indians that are always wandering about. They have a small village across the creek from us, and every evening we hear their "tom-toms" as they chant and dance, and when the wind is from that direction we get a smell now and then of their dirty tepees. Major Stokes and Mrs. Stokes, also, see the noble side of Indians, but that side has always been so covered with blankets and other dirty things I have never found it!

YOU will be shocked, I know, when you hear that we are houseless--homeless--that for the second time Faye has been ranked out of quarters! At Camp Supply the turn out was swift, but this time it has been long drawn out and most vexatious. Last month Major Bagley came here from Fort Maginnis, and as we had rather expected that he would select our house, we made no preparations for winter previous to his coming. But as soon as he reached the post, and many times after, he assured Faye that nothing could possibly induce him to disturb us, and said many more sweet things.

Unfortunately for us, he was ordered to return to Fort Maginnis to straighten out some of his accounts while quartermaster, and Mrs. Bagley decided to remain as she was until Major Bagley's return. He was away one month, and during that time the gardener stored away in our little cellar our vegetables for the winter, including quantities of beautiful celery that was packed in boxes. All those things had to be taken down a ladder, which made it really very hard work. Having faith in Major Bagley's word, the house was cleaned from top to bottom, much painting and calcimining having been done. All the floors were painted and hard-oiled, and everyone knows what discomfort that always brings about. But at last everything was finished, and we were about to settle down to the enjoyment of a tidy, cheerful little home when Major Bagley appeared the second time, and within two hours Faye was notified that his quarters had been selected by him!

We are at present in two rooms and a shed that happened to be unoccupied, and I feel very much as though I was in a second-hand shop. Things are piled up to the ceiling in both rooms, and the shed is full also. All of the vegetables were brought up from the cellar, of course, and as the weather has been very cold, the celery and other tender things were frozen. General and Mrs. Bourke have returned, and at once insisted upon our going to their house, but as there was nothing definite about the time when we will get our house, we said "No." We are taking our meals with them, however, and Hang is there also, teaching their new Chinaman. But I can assure you that I am more than cross. If Major Bagley had selected the house the first time he came, or even if he had said nothing at all about the quarters, much discomfort and unpleasantness would have been avoided. They will get our nice clean house, and we will get one that will require the same renovating we have just been struggling with. I have made up my mind unalterably to one thing--the nice little dinner I had expected to give Major and Mrs. Bagley later on, will be for other people, friends who have had less honey to dispose of.

The splendid hunting was interrupted by the move, too. Every October in this country we have a snowstorm that lasts usually three or four days; then the snow disappears and there is a second fall, with clear sunny days until the holidays. This year the weather remained warm and the storm was later than usual, but more severe when it did come, driving thousands of water-fowl down with a rush from the mountain streams and lakes. There is a slough around a little plateau near the post, and for a week or more this was teeming with all kinds of ducks, until it was frozen over. Sometimes we would see several species quietly feeding together in the most friendly way. Faye and I would drive the horses down in the cutter, and I would hold them while he walked on ahead hunting.

One day, when the snow was falling in big moist flakes that were so thick that the world had been narrowed down to a few yards around us, we drove to some tall bushes growing on the bank of the slough. Faye was hunting, and about to make some ducks rise when he heard a great whir over his head, and although the snow was so thick he could not see just what was there, he quickly raised his gun and fired at something he saw moving up there. To his great amazement and my horror, an immense swan dropped down and went crashing through the bushes. It was quite as white as the snow on the ground, and coming from the dense cloud of snow above, where no warning of its presence had been given, no call sounded, one felt that there was something queer about it all. With its enormous wings spread, it looked like an angel coming to the earth.

The horses thought so, also, for as soon as it touched the bushes they bolted, and for a few minutes I was doubtful if I could hold them. I was so vexed with them, too, for I wanted to see that splendid bird. They went around and around the plateau, and about all I was able to do at first was to keep them from going to the post. They finally came down to a trot, but it was some time before I could coax them to go to the bushes where the swan had fallen. I did not blame them much, for when the big bird came down, it seemed as if the very heavens were falling. We supplied our friends with ducks several days, and upon our own dinner table duck was served ten successive days. And it was just as acceptable the last day as the first, for almost every time there was a different variety, the cinnamon, perhaps, being the most rare.

Last year Hang was very contrary about the packing down of the eggs for winter use. I always put them in salt, but he thought they should be put in oats because Mrs. Pierce had packed hers that way. You know he had been Mrs. Pierce's cook two years before he came to me, and for a time he made me weary telling how she had things done. Finally I told him he must do as I said, that he was my cook now. There was peace for a while, and then came the eggs.

He would not do one thing to assist me, not even take down the eggs, and looked at Volmer with scorn when he carried down the boxes and salt. I said nothing, knowing what the result would be later on if Hang remained with me. When the cold weather came and no more fresh eggs were brought in, it was astonishing to see how many things that stubborn Chinaman could make without any eggs at all. Get them out of the salt he simply would not. Of course that could not continue forever, so one day I brought some up and left them on his table without saying a word. He used them, and after that there was no trouble, and one day in the spring he brought in to show me some beautifully beaten eggs, and said, "Velly glood--allee same flesh."

This fall when the time came to pack eggs, I said, "Hang, perhaps we had better pack the eggs in oats this year." He said, "Naw, loats no glood!" Then came my revenge. I said, "Mrs. Pierce puts hers in oats," but he became angry and said, "Yes, me know--Missee Pleese no know--slalt makee him allee same flesh." And in salt they are, and Hang packed every one. I offered to show him how to do it, but he said, "Me know--you see." It gave him such a fine opportunity to dictate to Volmer! If the striker did not bring the eggs the very moment he thought they should be in, Hang would look him up and say, "You bling leggs!" Just where these boxes of eggs are I do not know. The Chinaman has spirited them off to some place where they will not freeze. He cannot understand all this ranking out of quarters, particularly after he had put the house in perfect order. When I told him to sweep the rooms after everything had been carried out, he said: "What for? You cleanee house nuff for him; he no care," and off he went. I am inclined to think that the little man was right, after all.

There have been many changes in the garrison during the past few months, and a number of our friends have gone to other posts. Colonel and Mrs. Palmer, Major and Mrs. Pierce, and Doctor and Mrs. Gordon are no longer here. We have lost, consequently, both of our fine tenors and excellent organist, and our little choir is not good now. Some of us will miss in other ways Colonel Palmer's cultivated voice. During the summer four of us found much pleasure in practicing together the light operas, each one learning the one voice through the entire opera.

When we get settled, if we ever do, we will be at our old end of the garrison again, and our neighbors on either side will be charming people. There is some consolation in that; nevertheless, I am thinking all the time of the pretty walls and shiny floors we had to give up, and to a very poor housekeeper, too. After we get our house, it will take weeks to fix it up, and it will be impossible to take the same interest in it that we found in the first. If Faye gets his first lieutenancy in the spring, it is possible that we may have to go to another post, which will mean another move. But I am tired and cross; anyone would be under such uncomfortable conditions.

THE trip over was by far the most enjoyable of any we have taken between Fort Shaw and this post, and we were thankful enough that we could come before the snow began to melt on the mountains. Our experience with the high water two years ago was so dreadful that we do not wish to ever encounter anything of the kind again. The weather was delightful--with clear, crisp atmosphere, such as can be found only in this magnificent Territory. It was such a pleasure to have our own turn-out, too, and to be able to see the mountains and canons as we came along, without having our heads bruised by an old ambulance.

Faye had to wait almost twelve years for a first lieutenancy, and now, when at last he has been promoted, it has been the cause of our leaving dear friends and a charming garrison, and losing dear yellow Hang, also. The poor little man wept when he said good-by to me in Helena. We had just arrived and were still on the walk in front of the hotel, and of course all the small boys in the street gathered around us. I felt very much like weeping, too, and am afraid I will feel even more so when I get in my own home. Hang is going right on to China, to visit his mother one year, and I presume that his people will consider him a very rich man, with the twelve hundred dollars he has saved. He has never cut his hair, and has never worn American clothes. Even in the winter, when it has been freezing cold, he would shuffle along on the snow with his Chinese shoes.

I shall miss the pretty silk coats about the house, and his swift, almost noiseless going around. That Chinamen are not more generally employed I cannot understand, for they make such exceptional servants. They are wonderfully economical, and can easily do the work of two maids, and if once you win their confidence and their affection they are your slaves. But they are very suspicious. Once, when Bishop Tuttle was with us, he wanted a pair of boots blackened, and set them in his room where Hang could see them, and on the toe of one he put a twenty-five cent piece. Hang blackened the boots beautifully, and then put the money back precisely where it was in the first place. Then he came to me and expressed his opinion of the dear bishop. He said, "China-man no stealee--you tellee him me no stealee--he see me no takee him"--and then he insisted upon my going to see for myself that the money was on the boot. I was awfully distressed. The bishop was to remain with us several days, and no one could tell how that Chinaman might treat him, for I saw that he was deeply hurt, but it was utterly impossible to make him believe otherwise than that the quarter had been put there to test his honesty. I finally concluded to tell the bishop all about it, knowing that his experience with all kinds of human nature had been great in his travels about to his various missions, and his kindness and tact with miner, ranchman, and cowboy; he is now called by them lovingly "The Cowboy Bishop." He laughed heartily about Hang, and said, "I'll fix that," which he must have done to Hang's entire satisfaction, for he fairly danced around the bishop during the remainder of his stay with us.

Faye was made post quartermaster and commissary as soon as he reported for duty here, and is already hard at work. The post is not large, but the office of quartermaster is no sinecure. An immense amount of transportation has to be kept in readiness for the field, for which the quartermaster alone is held responsible, and this is the base of supplies for outfits for all parties--large and small--that go to the Yellowstone Park, and these are many, now that Livingstone can be reached from the north or the south by the Northern Pacific Railroad. Immense pack trains have to be fitted out for generals, congressmen, even the President himself, during the coming season. These people bring nothing whatever with them for camp, but depend entirely upon the quartermaster here to fit them out as luxuriously as possible with tents and commissaries--even to experienced camp cooks!

The railroad has been laid straight through the post, and it looks very strange to see the cars running directly back of the company quarters. The long tunnel--it is to be called the Bozeman tunnel--that has been cut through a large mountain is not quite finished, and the cars are still run up over the mountain upon a track that was laid only for temporary use. It requires two engines to pull even the passenger trains up, and when the divide is reached the "pilot" is uncoupled and run down ahead, sometimes at terrific speed. One day, since we came, the engineer lost control, and the big black thing seemed almost to drop down the grade, and the shrieking of the continuous whistle was awful to listen to; it seemed as if it was the wailing of the souls of the two men being rushed on--perhaps to their death. The thing came on and went screaming through the post and on through Bozeman, and how much farther we do not know. Some of the enlisted men got a glimpse of the engineer as he passed and say that his face was like chalk. We will not be settled for some time, as Faye is to take a set of vacant quarters on the hill until one of the officers goes on leave, when we will move to that house, as it is nicer and nearer the offices. He could have taken it when we came had he been willing to turn anyone out. It seems to me that I am waiting for a house about half the time, yet when anyone wants our house it is taken at once!

For a few days we are with Lieutenant and Mrs. Fiske. They gave us an elegant dinner last evening. Miss Burt and her brother came up from Bozeman. This evening we dine with Major and Mrs. Gillespie of the cavalry. He is in command of the post--and tomorrow we will dine with Captain and Mrs. Spencer. And so it will go on, probably, until everyone has entertained us in some delightful manner, as this is the custom in the Army when there are newcomers in the garrison. I am so sorry that these courtesies cannot be returned for a long time--until we get really settled, and then how I shall miss Hang! How I am to do without him I do not quite see.

THIS post is in a most dilapidated condition, and it--also the country about--looks as though it had been the scene of a fierce bombardment. And bombarded we certainly have been--by a terrific hailstorm that made us feel for a time that our very lives were in danger. The day had been excessively warm, with brilliant sunshine until about three o'clock, when dark clouds were seen to be coming up over the Bozeman Valley, and everyone said that perhaps at last we would have the rain that was so much needed, I have been in so many frightful storms that came from innocent-looking clouds, that now I am suspicious of anything of the kind that looks at all threatening. Consequently, I was about the first person to notice the peculiar unbroken gray that had replaced the black of a few minutes before, and the first, too, to hear the ominous roar that sounded like the fall of an immense body of water, and which could be distinctly heard fifteen minutes before the storm reached us.

While I stood at the door listening and watching, I saw several people walking about in the garrison, each one intent upon his own business and not giving the storm a thought. Still, it seemed to me that it would be just as well to have the house closed tight, and calling Hulda we soon had windows and doors closed--not one minute too soon, either, for the storm came across the mountains with hurricane speed and struck us with such force that the thick-walled log houses fairly trembled. With the wind came the hail at the very beginning, changing the hot, sultry air into the coldness of icebergs. Most of the hailstones were the size of a hen's egg, and crashed through windows and pounded against the house, making a noise that was not only deafening but paralyzing. The sounds of breaking glass came from every direction and Hulda and I rushed from one room to the other, not knowing what to do, for it was the same scene everyplace--floors covered with broken glass and hail pouring in through the openings.

The ground upon which the officers' quarters are built is a little sloping, therefore it had to be cut away, back of the kitchen, to make the floor level for a large shed where ice chest and such things are kept, and there are two or three steps at the door leading from the shed up to the ground outside. This gradual rise continues far back to the mountains, so by the time the hail and water reached us from above they had become one broad, sweeping torrent, ever increasing in volume. In one of the boards of our shed close to the steps, and just above the ground, there happened to be a large "knot" which the pressure of the water soon forced out, and the water and hailstones shot through and straight across the shed as if from a fire hose, striking the wall of the main building! The sight was most laughable--that is, at first it was; but we soon saw that the awful rush of water that was coming in through the broken sash and the remarkable hose arrangement back of the kitchen was rapidly flooding us.

So I ran to the front door, and seeing a soldier at one of he barrack windows, I waved and waved my hand until he saw me. He understood at once and came running over, followed by three more men, who brought spades and other things. In a short time sods had been banked up at every door, and then the water ceased to come in. By that time the heaviest of the storm had passed over, and the men, who were most willing and kind, began to shovel out the enormous quantity of hailstones from the shed. They found by actual measurement that they were eight inches deep--solid hail, and over the entire floor. Much of the water had run into the kitchen and on through to the butler's pantry, and was fast making its way to the dining room when it was cut off. The scenes around the little house were awful. More or less water was in each room, and there was not one unbroken pane of glass to be found, and that was not all---there was not one unbroken pane of glass in the whole post. That night Faye telegraphed to St. Paul for glass to replace nine hundred panes that had been broken.

Faye was at the quartermaster's office when the storm came up, and while it was still hailing I happened to look across the parade that way, and in the door I saw Faye standing. He had left the house not long before, dressed in a suit of immaculate white linen, and it was that suit that enabled me to recognize him through the veil of rain and hail. Sorry as I was, I had to laugh, for the picture was so ludicrous--Faye in those chilling white clothes, broken windows each side of him, and the ground covered with inches of hailstones and ice water! He ran over soon after the men got here, but as he had to come a greater distance his pelting was in proportion. Many of the stones were so large it was really dangerous to be hit by them.

When the storm was over the ground was white, as if covered with snow, and the high board fences that are around the yards back of the officers' quarters looked as though they had been used for targets and peppered with big bullets. Mount Bridger is several miles distant, yet we can distinctly see from here the furrows that were made down its sides. It looks as if deep ravines had been cut straight down from peak to base. The gardens are wholly ruined--not one thing was left in them. The poor little gophers were forced out of their holes by the water, to be killed by the hail, and hundreds of them are lying around dead. I wondered and wondered why Dryas did not come to our assistance, but he told us afterward that when the storm first came he went to the stable to fasten the horses up snug, and was then afraid to come away, first because of the immense hailstones, and later because both horses were so terrified by the crashing in of their windows, and the awful cannonade of hail on the roof. A new cook had come to us just the day before the storm, and I fully expected that she would start back to Bozeman that night, but she is still here, and was most patient over the awful condition of things all over the house. She is a Pole and a good cook, so there is a prospect of some enjoyment in life after the house gets straightened out. There was one thing peculiar about that storm. 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.

At present Faye is busy with preparations for two more parties of exceedingly distinguished personnel. One of these will arrive in a day or two, and is called the "Indian Commission," and consists of senator Dawes and fourteen congressmen. The other party for whom an elaborate camp outfit is being put in readiness consists of the President of the United States, the lieutenant general of the Army, the governor of Montana, and others of lesser magnitude. A troop of cavalry will escort the President through the park. Now that the park can be reached by railroad, all of the generals, congressmen, and judges are seized with a desire to inspect it--in other words, it gives them a fine excuse for an outing at Uncle Sam's expense.