An express had been dispatched to Chicago by the officers to take our letters, and bring back the mail from that place.  A tough, hardy soldier, named Sulky, acted as messenger, and he had hitherto made light of his burden or the length of the way, notwithstanding that his task was performed on foot with his pack upon his shoulders.  But now Sulky had been absent some weeks, and we had given him up entirely, persuaded that he must have perished with cold and starvation.

At length he appeared, nearly blind from travelling in the snow.  He had lain by three weeks in an Indian lodge, the snow being too deep to permit him to journey.  The account he gave put an end to the hopes I had begun to entertain of being able to visit our friends at Chicago in the course of this winter.

We had, before the last heavy fall of snow, been forming plans to that effect.  Captain Harney had kindly commenced preparing some trains, or boxes placed on sledges, which it was thought would, when lined with buffalo-skins, furnish a very comfortable kind of vehicle for the journey; and I was still inclined to think a good, deep bed of snow over the whole country no great obstacle to a sleigh-ride.  The whole matter was, however, cut short by the commanding officer, who from the first had violently opposed the scheme, declaring that he would order the sentinels to fire on us if we attempted to leave the fort.  So, finding the majority against us, we were obliged to yield.

The arrival of sweet, lovely little Lizzie Twiggs, before January was quite past, was an event that shed light and joy in at least two dwellings.  It seemed as if she belonged to all of us, and as she increased in size and beauty it was hard to say who, among us all, was most proud of her.  If we had ever felt any languid hours before, we could have none now—­she was the pet, the darling, the joint property of both households.

Whatever regret I might have had, previous to this event, at the idea of leaving my friend for the three weeks to which we proposed to limit our visit to Chicago, I felt now that she would scarcely miss me, and that we might hold ourselves in readiness to take advantage of the first improvement in the weather, to put this favorite project in execution.

During the latter part of February the cold became less severe.  The snows melted away, and by the beginning of March the weather was so warm and genial, that we were quite confident of being able to make the journey on horseback without any serious difficulty.

Our plans once settled upon, the first thing to be provided was warm and comfortable apparel.  A riding-habit of stout broadcloth was pronounced indispensable to my equipment.  But of such an article I was destitute.  Nothing among my wedding travelling gear seemed in any way to offer a substitute.  What was to be done?  The requisite material was to be found in abundance at the sutler’s store (the shantee, as it was technically termed), but how to get it manufactured into a suitable garment was the question.