Army Letters from an Officer's Wife, 1871-1888 Part 19

Our breakfast hour is twelve o'clock, and about eleven Mrs. Hughes and I went out for a little walk. In a short time Faye joined us, and just before twelve I came in to see if everything was in its proper place on the table. As I went down the hall I saw a sight in the dining room that sent shivers down my back. On the table were one or two doilies, and one or two of various other things, and at one side stood the Scotch treasure with a plate in one hand upon which were a few b.u.t.ter b.a.l.l.s, and in the other she held a b.u.t.ter pick. The doors leading through pantry into the kitchen were open and all along the floor I could see here and there a little golden ball that had evidently rolled off the plate. I could also see the range--that looked black and cold and without one spark of fire!

Going to the side of the table opposite Ellen I said, "Ellen, what is the matter with you?"--and looking at me with dull, heavy eyes, she said, "And what is the matter wit' you?" Then I saw that she was drunk, horribly drunk, and told her so, but she could only say, "I'm drunk, am I?" I ran outside for Faye, but he and Mrs. Hughes had walked to the farther end of the officers' line, and I was compelled to go all that distance before I could overtake them and tell of my woes. I wanted the woman out of the house as quickly as possible, so that Miller--who is a very good cook--and I could prepare some sort of a breakfast. Faye went to the house with his longest strides and told the woman to go at once, and I saw no more of her. Mrs. Hughes was most lovely about the whole affair--said that not long ago she had tried a different cook each week for six in succession. That was comforting, but did not go far toward providing a breakfast for us. Miller proved to be a genuine treasure, however, and the sergeant's wife--who is ever "a friend indeed"--came to our a.s.sistance so soon we scarcely missed the Scotch creature. Still, it was most exasperating to have such an unnecessary upheaval, just at the very time we had a guest in the house--a dainty, fastidious little woman, too--and wanted things to move along smoothly. I wonder of what nationality the next trial will be! If one gets a good maid out here the chances are that she will soon marry a soldier or quarrel with one, as was the Case with Hulda. For some unaccountable reason a Chinese laundry at Sun River has been the cause of all the Chinamen leaving the post.

Now I must tell of something funny that happened to me.

The morning before Mrs. Hughes arrived I went out for a little ride, and about two miles up the river I left the road to follow a narrow trail that leads to a bluff called Crown b.u.t.te. I had to go through a large field of wild rosebushes, then across an alkali bed, and then through more bushes. I had pa.s.sed the first bushes and was more than half way across the alkali, Rollo's feet sinking down in the sticky mud at every step, when there appeared from the bushes in front of me, and right in the path, two immense gray wolves. If they had studied to surprise me in the worst place possible they could not have succeeded better. Rollo saw them, of course, and stopped instantly, giving deep sighs, preparing to snort, I knew. To give myself courage I talked to the horse, slowly turning him around, so as to not excite him, or let the timber wolves see that I was running from them.

But the horse I could not deceive, for as soon as his back was toward them, head and tail went up, and there was snort after snort. He could not run, as we were still in the alkali lick. I looked back and saw that the big gray beasts were slowly moving toward us, and I recognized the fact that the mud would not stop them, if they chose to cross it. Once free of the awful stickiness, I knew that we would be out of danger, as the swiftest wolf could never overtake the horse--but it seemed as if it were miles across that white mud. But at last we got up on solid ground, and were starting off at Rollo's best pace, when from out of the bushes in front of us, there came a third wolf! The horse stopped so suddenly it is a wonder I was not pitched over his head, but I did not think of that at the time.

The poor horse was terribly frightened, and I could feel him tremble, which made me all the more afraid. The situation was not pleasant, and without stopping to think, I said, "Rollo, we must run him down--now do your best!" and taking a firm hold of the bridle, and bracing myself in the saddle, I struck the horse hard with my whip and gave an awful scream. I never use a whip on him, so the sting on his side and yell in his ears frightened him more than the wolf had, and he started on again with a rush. But the wolf stood still--so did my heart--for the beast looked savage. When it seemed as though we were actually upon him I struck the horse again and gave scream after scream as fast as my lungs would allow me. The big gray thing must have thought something evil was coming, for he sprang back, and then jumped over in the bushes and did not show himself again. Rollo came home at an awful pace; but I looked back once and saw, standing in the road near the bushes, five timber wolves, evidently watching us. Just where the other two had been I will never know, of course.

We have ridden and driven up that road many, many times, and I have often ridden through those rosebushes, but have never seen wolves or coyotes. Down in the lowland on the other side of the post we frequently see a coyote that will greet us with the most unearthly howls, and will sometimes follow carriages, howling all the time. But everyone looks upon him as a pet. Those big, gray timber wolves are quite another animal, fierce and savage. Some one asked me why I screamed, but I could not tell why. Perhaps it was to urge the horse--perhaps to frighten the wolf--perhaps to relieve the strain on my nerves. Possibly it was just because I was frightened and could not help it!

FORT SHAW, MONTANA TERRITORY, May, 1888.

SUCH upheaval orders have been coming to the post the past few days, some of us wonder if there has not been an earthquake, and can only sit around and wait in a numb sort of way for whatever may come next.

General Bourke, who has been colonel of the regiment, you know, has been appointed a brigadier general and is to command the Department of the Platte, with headquarters at Omaha, Nebraska. This might have affected Faye under any circ.u.mstances, as a new colonel has the privilege of selecting his own staff officers, but General Bourke, as soon as he received the telegram telling of his appointment, told Faye that he should ask for him as aide-de-camp. This will take us to Omaha, also, and I am almost heartbroken over it, as it will be a wretched life for me--cooped up in a noisy city! At the same time I am delighted that Faye will have for four years the fine staff position. These appointments are complimentary, and considered most desirable.

The real stir-up, however, came with orders for the regiment to go to Fort Snelling, Minnesota, for that affects about everyone here. Colonel Munson, who relieves General Bourke as colonel of the regiment, is in St. Paul, and is well known as inspector general of this department, which perhaps is not the most flattering introduction he could have had to his new regiment. He telegraphed, as soon as promoted, that he desired Faye to continue as adjutant, but of course to be on the staff of a general is far in advance of being on the staff of a colonel. The colonel commands only his own regiment--sometimes not all of that, as when companies are stationed at other posts than headquarters--whereas a brigadier general has command of a department consisting of many army posts and many regiments.

The one thing that distresses me most of all is, that I have to part from my horse! This is what makes me so rebellious, for aside from my own personal loss, I have great sorrow for the poor dumb animal that will suffer so much with strangers who will not understand him. No one has ridden or driven him for two years but myself, and he has been tractable and lovable always. During very cold weather, when perhaps he would be too frisky, I have allowed him to play in the yard back of the house, until all superfluous spirits had been kicked and snorted off, after which I could have a ride in peace and safety. Faye thinks that he is entirely too nervous ever to take kindly to city sights and sounds--that the fretting and the heat might kill him.

So it has been decided that once again we will sell everything--both horses and all things pertaining to them, reserving our saddles only.

Every piece of furniture will be sold, also, as we do not purpose to keep house at all while in Omaha. How I envy our friends who will go to Fort Snelling! We have always been told that it is such a beautiful post, and the people of St. Paul and Minneapolis are most charming.

It seems so funny that the regiment should be sent to Snelling just as Colonel Munson was promoted to it. He will have to move six miles only!

We know that when we leave Fort Shaw we will go from the old army life of the West--that if we ever come back, it will be to unfamiliar scenes and a new condition of things. We have seen the pa.s.sing of the buffalo and other game, and the Indian seems to be pa.s.sing also. But I must confess that I have no regret for the Indians--there are still too many of them!

FORT SHAW, MONTANA TERRITORY, May, 1888.

THERE can be only two more days at this dear old post, where we have been so happy, and I want those to pa.s.s as quickly as possible, and have some of the misery over. Our house is perfectly forlorn, with just a few absolute necessaries in it for our use while here. Everything has been sold or given away, and all that is left to us are our trunks and army chests. Some fine china and a few pieces of cut gla.s.s I kept, and even those are packed in small boxes and in the chests.

The general selling-out business has been funny. No one in the regiment possessed many things that they cared to move East with them, and as we did not desire to turn our houses into second-hand shops, where people could handle and make remarks about things we had treasured, it was decided that everything to be sold should be moved to the large hall, where enlisted men could attend to the shop business. Our only purchasers were people from Sun River Crossing, and a few ranches that are some distance from the post, and it was soon discovered that anything at all nice was pa.s.sed by them, so we became sharp--bunching the worthless with the good--and that worked beautifully and things sold fast.

These moves are of the greatest importance to army officers, and many times the change of station is a mere nothing in comparison to the refitting of a house, something that is never taken into consideration when the pay of the Army is under discussion. The regiment has been on the frontier ten years, and everything that we had that was at all nice had been sent up from St. Paul at great expense, or purchased in Helena at an exorbitant price. All those things have been disposed of for almost nothing, and when the regiment reaches Fort Snelling, where larger quarters have to be furnished for an almost city life, the officers will be at great expense. Why I am bothering about Snelling I fail to see, as we are not going there, and I certainly have enough troubles of my Own to think about.

This very morning, Mrs. Ames, of Sun River Crossing, who now owns dear Rollo, came up to ask me to show her how to drive him! Just think of that! She talked as though she had been deceived--that it was my duty to show her the trick by which I had managed to control the horse, and, naturally, it would be a delightful pleasure to me to be allowed to drive him once more, and so on. Mrs. Ames said that yesterday she started out with him, intending to come to the post to let me see him--fancy the delicate feeling expressed in that--but the horse went so fast she became frightened, for it seemed as though the telegraph poles were only a foot apart. She finally got the horse turned around and drove back home, when her husband got in and undertook to drive him, but with no better success; but he, too, started the horse toward his old home.

Mr. Ames then told her to have Rollo put back in the stable until she could get me to show her how to drive him. I almost cried out from pure pity for the poor dumb beast that I knew was suffering so in his longing for his old home and friends who understood him. But for the horse's sake I tried not to break down. I told her that first of all she must teach the horse to love her. That was an awfully hard thing to say, I a.s.sure you, and I doubt if the woman understood my meaning after all.

When I told her not to pull on his mouth she looked amazed, and said, "Why, he would run away with me if I didn't!" But I a.s.sured her that he would not--that he had been taught differently--that he was very nervous and spirited--that the harder she pulled the more excited he would become--that I had simply held him steady, no more. I saw that Mrs. Ames did not believe one word that I had said, but I tried to convince her, for the sake of the unhappy animal that had been placed at her mercy.

I have often met and pa.s.sed her out on the road, and the horse she drives is a large, handsome animal, and we had supposed that she was a good whip; so, when Mr. Ames appeared the other day and said his wife had asked him to come up and buy the sorrel horse for her we were delighted that such a good home had been found for him--and for Fannie too. Mr. Ames bought the entire outfit. Fannie is beautiful, but wholly lacking in affection, and can take care of herself any place.

All sorts of people have been here for the horses--some wanted both, others only one--but Faye would not let them go to any of them, as he was afraid they would not have the best of care. Rollo had been gone only an hour or so when a young man--a typical bronco breaker--came to buy him, and seemed really distressed because he had been sold. He said that he had broken him when a colt at Mr. Vaughn's. It so happened that Faye was at the adjutant's office, and the man asked for me. I was very glad, for I had always wanted to meet the person who had slammed the saddle first on Rollo's back. I told him that it was generally considered at the post that I had broken the horse! I said that he had been made cruelly afraid of a saddle, and for a long time after we had bought him, he objected to it and to being mounted, and I did not consider a horse broken that would do those things. I said also, that the horse had not been gaited. He interrupted with, "Why, he's a pacer"--just as though that settled everything; but I told him that Rollo had three perfectly trained grades of speed, each one of which I had taught him.

The young man's face became very red and he looked angry, but I had a beautiful time. It was such a relief to express my opinion to the man just at that time, too, when I was grieving so for the horse. I saw at once that he was a bronco breaker from his style of dress. He had on boots of very fine leather with enormously high heels, and strapped to them were large, sharp-pointed Mexican spurs. His trousers were of leather and very broad at the bottom, and all down the front and outside was some kind of gray fur--"chaps" this article of dress is called--and in one hand he held a closely plaited, stinging black "quirt." He wore a plaid shirt and cotton handkerchief around his neck. That describes the man who rode Rollo first--and no wonder the spirited, high-strung colt was suspicious of saddles, men, and things. I watched the man as he rode away. His horse was going at a furious gallop, with ears turned back, as if expecting whip or spur any instant, and the man sat far over on one side, that leg quite straight as though he was standing in the long stirrup, and the other was resting far up on the saddle--which was of the heavy Mexican make, with enormous flaps, and high, round pommel in front. I am most thankful that Rollo has gone beyond that man's reach, as everything about him told of cruelty to horses.

Yet, Mrs. Ames seemed such a cold woman--so incapable of understanding or appreciating the affection of a dumb animal. During the years we owned Rollo he was struck with the whip only once--the time I wanted him to run down a wolf up the river.

The Great Northern Railroad runs very near Fort Shaw now--about twenty miles, I think--and, that will make it convenient for the moving of the regiment, and all of us, in fact. We will go to St. Paul on the special train with the regiment, for Faye will not be relieved as adjutant until he reaches Fort Snelling, where we will remain for a day or two. It will be a sad trip for me, for I love the West and life at a Western post, and the vanities of city life do not seem attractive to me--and I shall miss my army friends, too!

Perhaps it is a small matter to mention, but since I have been with the Army I have ridden twenty-two horses that had never been ridden by a woman before! As I still recollect the gait and disposition of each horse, it seems of some consequence to me, for unbroken as some were, I was never unseated--not once!

THE PAXTON HOTEL, OMAHA, NEBRASKA, August, 1888.

ALMOST five weeks have pa.s.sed since we left dear Fort Shaw! During that time we have become more or less accustomed to the restrictions of a small city, but I fancy that I am not the only one of the party from Montana who sometimes sighs for the Rocky Mountains and the old garrison life. Here we are not of the Army--neither are we citizens. General and Mrs. Bourke are still dazzled by the brilliancy of the new silver star on the general's shoulder straps, and can still smile. Faye says very little, but I know that he often frets over his present monotonous duties and yearns for the regiment, his duties as adjutant of the regiment, the parades, drills, and outdoor life generally, that make life so pleasant at a frontier post.

Department Headquarters is in a government building down by the river, and the offices are most cheerless. All the officers wear civilian clothes, and there is not one sc.r.a.p of uniform to be seen any place--nothing whatever to tell one "who is who," from the department commander down to Delaney, the old Irish messenger! Each one sits at his desk and busies himself over the many neatly tied packages of official papers upon it, and tries to make the world believe that he is happy--but there are confidential talks, when it is admitted that life is dreary--the regiment the only place for an energetic officer, and so on. Yet not one of those officers could be induced to give up his detail, for it is always such a compliment to be selected from the many for duty at headquarters. Faye and Lieutenant Travis are on the general's personal staff, the others belong to the department. Just now, Faye is away with the department commander, who is making an official tour of inspection through his new department, which is large, and includes some fine posts. It is known as "The Department of the Platte."

Everyone has been most hospitable--particularly the army people at Fort Omaha--a post just beyond the city limits. Mrs. Wheeler, wife of the colonel in command, gave a dancing reception very soon after we got here, and an elegant dinner a little later on--both for the new brigadier general and his staff. Mrs. Foster, the handsome wife of the lieutenant colonel, gave a beautiful luncheon, and the officers of the regiment gave a dance that was pleasant. But their orchestra is far from being as fine as ours. In the city there have been afternoon and evening receptions, and several luncheons, the most charming luncheon of all having been the one given by my friend, Mrs. Schuyler, at the Union Club. One afternoon each week the club rooms are at the disposal of the wives of its members, and so popular is this way of entertaining, the rooms are usually engaged weeks in advance. The service is really perfect, and the rooms airy and delightfully cool--and cool rooms are great treasures in this hot place.

The heat has been almost unbearable to us from the mountains, and one morning I nearly collapsed while having things "fitted" in the stuffy rooms of a dressmaker. Many of these nouveaux riches dress elegantly, and their jewels are splendid. All the women here have such white skins, and by comparison I must look like a Mexican, my face is so brown from years of exposure to dry, burning winds. Of course there has been much shopping to do, and for a time it was so confusing--to have to select things from a counter, with a shop girl staring at me, or perhaps insisting upon my purchasing articles I did not want. For years we had shopped from catalogues, and it was a nice quiet way, too. Parasols have bothered me. I would forget to open them in the street, and would invariably leave them in the stores when shopping, and then have to go about looking them up. But this is the first summer I have been East in nine years, and it is not surprising that parasols and things mix me up at times.

Faye has a beautiful saddle horse--his gait a natural single foot--and I sometimes ride him, but most of my outings are on the electric cars. I might as well be on them, since I have to hear their buzz and clang both day and night from our rooms here in the hotel. The other morning, as I was returning from a ride across the river to Council Bluffs, I heard the shrill notes of a calliope that reminded me that Forepaugh's circus was to be in town that day, and that I had promised to go to the afternoon performance with a party of friends. But soon there were other sounds and other thoughts. Above the noise of the car I heard a bra.s.s band--and there could be no mistake--it was playing strong and full one of Sousa's marches, "The March Past of the Rifle Regiment"--a march that was written for Faye while he was adjutant of the regiment, and "Dedicated to the officers and enlisted men" of the regiment. For almost three years that one particular march had been the review march of the regiment--that is, it had been played always whenever the regiment had pa.s.sed in review before the colonel, inspector general of the department, or any official of sufficient rank and authority to review the troops.

The car seemed to go miles before it came to a place where I could get off. Every second was most precious and I jumped down while it was still in motion, receiving a scathing rebuke from the conductor for doing so.

I almost ran until I got to the walk nearest the band, where I tagged along with boys, both big and small. The march was played for some time, and no one could possibly imagine, how those familiar strains thrilled me. But there was an ever-increasing feeling of indignation that a tawdry coated circus band, sitting in a gilded wagon, should presume to play that march, which seemed to belong exclusively to the regiment, and to be a.s.sociated only with scenes of ceremony and great dignity.

The circus men played the piece remarkably well, however, and when it was stopped I came back to the hotel to think matters over and have a heart-to-heart talk with myself. Of course I am more than proud that Faye is an aide-de-camp, and would not have things different from what they are, but the detail is for four years, and the thought of living in this unattractive place that length of time is crushing. But Faye will undoubtedly have his captaincy by the expiration of the four years, and the antic.i.p.ation of that is comforting. It is the feeling of loneliness I mind here--of being lost and no one to search for me. I miss the cheery garrison life--the delightful rides, and it may sound funny, but I miss also the little church choir that finally became a joy to me.

Sergeant Graves is now leader of the regimental band at Fort Snelling, and Matijicek is in New York, a member of the Damrosch orchestra. It is still something to wonder over that I should have been on a street car that carried me to a circus parade at the precise time the Review March was being played! It seems quite as marvelous as my having been seated at a supper table in a far-away ranch in Montana, the very night a number of horse breakers were there, also at the table, and one of them "put up" Rollo and me to his friends. I shall never forget how queer I felt when I heard myself discussed by perfect strangers in my very presence--not one of whom knew in the least who I was. It made me think that perhaps I was shadowy--invisible--although to myself I did not feel at all that way.

Faye wrote to Mr. Ames about Rollo, thinking that possibly he might buy him back, but Mr. Ames wrote in reply that Rollo had already been sold, because Mrs. Ames had found it impossible to manage him. Also that he was owned by the post trader at Fort Maginnis, who was making a pet of him. So, as the horse had a good home and gentle treatment, it was once more decided to leave him up in his native mountains. It might have been cruel to have brought him here to suffer from the heat, and to be frightened and ever fretted by the many strange sights and sounds. But I am not satisfied, for the horse had an awful fear of men when ridden or driven by them, and I know that he is so unhappy and wonders why I no longer come to him, and why I do not take him from the strange people who do not understand him. He was a wonderfully playful animal, and sometimes when Miller would be leading the two horses from our yard to the corral, he would turn Rollo loose for a run. That always brought out a number of soldiers to see him rear, lunge, and snort; his turns so quick, his beautiful tawny mane would be tossed from side to side and over his face until he looked like a wild horse. The more the men laughed the wilder he seemed to get. He never forgot Miller, however, but would be at the corral by the time he got there, and would go to his own stall quietly and without guidance. Poor Rollo!

CAMP NEAR UINTAH MOUNTAINS, WYOMING TERRITORY, August, 1888.

TO be back in the mountains and in camp is simply glorious! And to see soldiers walking around, wearing the dear old uniform, just as we used to see them, makes one feel as though old days had returned. The two colored men--chef and butler--rather destroy the technique of a military camp, but they seem to be necessary adjuncts; and besides, we are not striving for harmony and effect, but for a fine outing, each day to be complete with its own pleasures. It was a novel experience to come to the mountains in a private car! The camp is very complete, as the camp of a department commander should be, and we have everything for our comfort. We are fourteen miles from the Union Pacific Railroad and six from Fort Bridger, from which post our tents and supplies came. Our ice is sent from there, also, and of course the enlisted men are from that garrison.

The party consists of General and Mrs. Bourke, Mrs. Hall, Mrs. Bourke's sister, Mrs. Ord of Omaha, General Stanley, paymaster, Captain Rives, judge advocate--both of the department staff--Lieutenant Travis, junior aide-de-camp, Faye, and myself. Mrs. Ord is a pretty woman, always wears dainty gowns, and is a favorite with Omaha society people. I know her very well, still I hesitated about wearing my short-skirted outing suit, fearing it would shock her. But a day or two after we got here she said to me, "What are we to do about those fish, Mrs. Rae? I always catch the most fish wherever I go, but I hear that you are successful also!"

So with high spirits we started out by ourselves that very morning, everyone laughing and betting on our number of fish as we left camp. I wore the short skirt, but Mrs. Ord had her skirts pinned so high I felt that a tuck or two should be taken in mine, to save her from embarra.s.sment. The fishing is excellent here and each one had every confidence in her own good luck, for the morning was perfect for trout fishing. Once I missed Mrs. Ord, and pushing some bushes back where I thought she might be, I saw a most comical sight. Lying flat on the ground, hat pushed back, and eyes peering over the bank of the stream, was Mrs. Ord, the society woman! I could not help laughing--she was so ridiculous in that position, which the pinned-up dress made even more funny--but she did not like it, and looking at me most reproachfully said, "You have frightened him away, and I almost had him." She had been in that position a long time, she said, waiting for a large trout to take her hook. The race for honors was about even that day, and there was no cause for envy on either side, for neither Mrs. Ord nor I caught one fish!

Our camp is near Smith's fork of Snake River, and not far from the camp is another fork that never has fish in it--so everyone tells us. That seemed so strange, for both streams have the same water from the stream above, and the same rocky beds. One day I thought I would try the stream, as Smith's fork was so muddy we could not fish in that. There had been a storm up in the mountains that had caused both streams to rise, so I caught some gra.s.shoppers to bait with, as it would be useless, of course, to try flies. I walked along the banks of the swollen stream until I saw a place where I thought there should be a trout, and to that little place the gra.s.shopper was cast, when snap!

went my leader. I put on another hook and another gra.s.shopper, but the result was precisely the same, so I concluded there must be a snag there, although I had supposed that I knew a fish from a snag! I tried one or two other places, but there was no variation--and each time I lost a leader and hook.

In the meantime a party had come over from camp, Faye among them, and there had been much good advice given me--and each one had told me that there were no fish ever in that stream; then they went on up and sat down on the bank under some trees. I was very cross, for it was not pleasant to be laughed at, particularly by women who had probably never had a rod in their hands. And I felt positive that it had been fish that had carried off my hooks, and I was determined to ascertain what was the matter. So I went back to our tent and got a very long leader, which I doubled a number of times. I knew that the thickness would not frighten the fish, as the water was so cloudy. I fixed a strong hook to that, upon which was a fine gra.s.shopper, and going to one of the places where my friends said I had been "snagged," I cast it over, and away it all went, which proved that I had caught something that could at least act like a fish. I reeled it in, and in time landed the thing--a splendid large trout! My very first thought was of those disagreeable people who had laughed at me--Faye first of all. So after them I went, carrying the fish, which gained in weight with every step. Their surprise was great, and I could see that Faye was delighted. He carried the trout to camp for me, and I went with him, for I was very tired.

The next morning I went to that stream again, taking with me a book of all sorts of flies and some gra.s.shoppers. The department commander went over also. He asked me to show him where I had lost the hooks, but I said, "If you fish in those places you will be laughed at more than I was yesterday." He understood, and went farther down. The water was much more clear, but still flies could not be seen, so I used the scorned gra.s.shopper. In about two hours I caught sixteen beautiful trout, which weighed, en ma.s.se, a little over twenty-five pounds! I cast in the very places where I had lost hooks, and almost every time caught a fish. I left them in the shade in various places along the stream, and Faye and a soldier brought them to camp. A fine display they made, spread out on the gra.s.s, for they seemed precisely the same size.

The general caught two large and several small trout--those were all that day. It was most remarkable that I should have found the only good places in the stream at a time when the water was not clear. Not only the right places, but the one right day, for not one trout has been caught there since. Perhaps with the high water the fish came up from Snake River, although trout are supposed to live in clear water. We can dispose of any number of birds and fish here, for those that are not needed for our own large mess can be given to the soldiers, and we often send chicken and trout to our friends at Fort Bridger. The farther one goes up the stream the better the fishing is--that is, the fish are more plentiful, but not as large as they are here.

About sixteen miles up--almost in the mountains--was General Crook's favorite fishing ground, and when he was in command of the department he and General Stanley, who also is an expert fisherman, came here many times, consequently General Stanley is familiar with the country about here. The evening after my splendid catch, General Stanley said that he would like to have Mrs. Ord and me go with him up the stream several miles, and asked if I would be willing to give Mrs. Ord the stream, as she had never used a fly, adding that she seemed a little piqued because I had caught such fine fish. I said at once that I would be delighted to give her the lead, although I knew, of course, that whoever goes second in a trout stream has very poor sport. But the request was a compliment, and besides, I had caught enough fish for a while.

The next day we made preparations, and early on the morning of the second we started. The department commander had gone to Omaha on official business, so he was not with us, and Faye did not go; but the rest of the party went twelve miles and then established a little camp for the day, and there we left them. Mrs. Ord and I and General Stanley, with a driver, got on a buckboard drawn by two mules, and went five miles farther up the stream, until, in fact, it was impossible for even a buckboard to go along the rocky trail. There we were expected to take the stream, and as soon as we left the wagon, Mrs. Ord and I retired to some bushes to prepare for the water. I had taken the "tuck" in my outing skirt, so there was not much for me to do; but Mrs. Ord pulled up and pinned up her serge skirt in a way that would have brought a small fortune to a cartoonist. When we came from the bushes, rods in hand, the soldier driver gave one bewildered stare, and then almost fell from his seat. He was too respectful to laugh outright and thus relieve his spasms, but he would look at us from the side of his eye, turn his face from us and fairly double over--then another quick look, and another double down again. Mrs. Ord laughed, and so did I. She is quite stout and I am very thin, and I suppose the soldier did see funny things about us. We saw them ourselves.

I shall never forget my first step in that water! It was as chilling as if it had been running over miles of ice, and by comparison the August sun seemed fiery; but these things were soon forgotten, for at once the excitement of casting a fly began. It is almost as much pleasure to put a little fly just where you want it, as it is to catch the fish. My rod and reel were in perfect condition--Faye had seen to that--and my book of flies was complete, and with charming companions and a stream full of trout, a day of unusual pleasure was a.s.sured. We were obliged to wade every step, as the banks of the stream had walls of boulders and thick bushes. Most of the stream was not very deep, but was a foamy, roaring torrent, rushing over the small rocks and around the large ones, with little, still, dark places along the banks--ideal homes for the mountain trout. We found a few deep pools that looked most harmless, but the current in them was swift and dangerous to those who could not always keep their balance. It was most difficult for me to walk on the slippery stones at first, and I had many a fall; but Mrs. Ord, being heavy, avoided upsets very nicely. At times we would be in water above our waists, and then Mrs. Ord and I would fall back with General Stanley for protection, who alternately praised and laughed at us during the whole day. Mrs. Ord was very quick to learn where and how to cast a fly, and I was delighted to let General Stanley see that gra.s.shoppers were not at all necessary to my success in fishing.

We sat upon a big, flat rock at luncheon, and were thankful that General Stanley was a tall man and could keep the box of sandwiches from getting wet. When we toppled over he always came to our a.s.sistance, so at times his wading boots were not of much use to him. Mrs. Ord was far ahead of me in number of fish, and General Stanley said that I had better keep up with her, if I wished. The stream had broadened out some, so finally Mrs. Ord whipped the left side, which is easier casting, and I whipped the right. We waded down the entire five miles, and Mrs. Ord, who had the stream most of the time, caught sixty-four trout and I caught fifty-six, and General Stanley picked up fourteen, after our splashing and frightening away the fish we did not catch. The trout were small, but wonderfully full of fight in that cold water. Of course General Stanley carried them for us. The driver had been ordered to keep within call on the trail, as General Stanley thought it would be impossible for Mrs. Ord and me to wade the five miles; but the distance seemed short to us; we never once thought of being tired, and it was with great regret we reeled in our lines.