Just before we left three or four really villainous looking men came in, and instantly there seemed to be a stir of some sort; and Nelson and the Senator stood very close to me, and while apparently doing nothing got us near the door, and we all strolled out, and then they spoke rather low to one another while they never let go of my arms.  Awkward customers, the Senator told us, and when these bad spirits were “around” things often ended in a row.  It was tiresome it did not happen, wasn’t it?  Both Octavia and I felt we should have loved to see a really exciting moment!  To-morrow we go down the great Osages mine, which belongs to Nelson and the Senator, and then to a dinner party in one of the shacks, and the next day we start for the real wild, because this is civilisation, and we are going to a quite young camp called Moonbeams, miles across the desert.  We shall have to leave the car, at the end of the railway, and go in rough kinds of motors.  It sounds too exciting, and the Senator says there they can show us the real thing and we are not to mind roughing it.  We are so looking forward to it, and if you are writing to Harry—­but, no, do not mention me.  By now he must have found out Mrs. Smith has things which aren’t attractive in a tent.

Tell Hurstbridge I will bring him a “gun,” and Ermyntrude a papoose doll.

Love from,

Your affectionate daughter,

ELIZABETH.

Still Osages City.

DEAREST MAMMA,—­I must write each day, because I have so much to say, if I didn’t I should get all behind.—­I don’t believe you would like going into a mine a bit!

We seemed to drive through unspeakable dust to a banked-up, immense heap of greyish green earth, with some board houses on it, and a tall shaft sticking out; and in one of these houses we changed, or rather dressed up in overcoats and caps, and were each given a dip candle.  Then we went to the lift.  But it wasn’t a nice place, with a velvet sofa, but just about three boards joined together to stand on, with a piece of iron going up the centre to a cross-bar overhead; no sides or top.  And this hung in what looked mid-air.

Mercedes and I got in first, with Nelson and the Vicomte beyond us, with their arms tight round us, and our hands clinging to the cross-bar of iron above.  Then we began to descend into the bowels of the earth.  It felt too extraordinary:  a slightly swaying motion, and not close to the sides as even in the most primitive lift, seeing or rather feeling space beyond.  Nelson held me so tight I could hear his heart thumping like a sledge hammer.  It felt very agreeable, and I am sure I should have been terribly frightened otherwise.  Mercedes did not seem to mind, either, and from what I know of Gaston, he wasn’t making the least of the occasion.