On Saturday, July 18, we set out to return to Fort Laramie.  The route was the same, and nothing occurred to vary it save the little incidents, not worth telling, which yet give the real charm to a journey.  Our party was made still larger by the addition of some mounted traders and their train of wagons.  It was always pleasant to see them, for there are no such riders as upon the frontier, where every one sits easily and perfectly, and the large boots and the sombreros make every man a picture.  Again we were on La Bonte at noon, on Horseshoe at night.  We begin to feel at home here, and it is truly a place to like, with its many bird-voices and rushing breezes.  We encamp; the soldiers laugh and sing; a simple joke seems to go a great way; one lassos another, and all roar when he misses.  The steam of cooking rises on the air:  we feel again the charm of camp-life, and our sleep is sweet in the night.  Once more the morning red flashes upon the sky, then changes to yellow and to gray.  Clouds come over, the roaring wind that always blows at Horseshoe scatters the limbs from the burnt trees, but it will not rain.  No such luck, but it will be cool and pleasant for our journey.  Passing by the ruins of Jack Slade’s ranch, the long curve of the Horseshoe, the bluffs and the plains, we are once more at Fort Laramie, and sitting in the cool evening air upon the friendly verandah of Major W——­, hearing the band play.

Our stay at the post was short, but we had time to attend a charming little ball given us by the officers, and to drive along the really pretty banks of the Laramie.  And now we were to leave them once more for a wilder country still, the Indian Territory itself, and to visit Red Cloud and Spotted Tail agencies, the names of which alone gave us a sense of adventure and of nearness to savage life.  Our escort was increased to fifty men, under command of Captain S——­ and two lieutenants, and we took along with us a large supply-train for the agencies of about thirty wagons, so that, numbering the teamsters and drivers, our party was at least one hundred strong.

Fording the Platte, a large deep stream, was a little unpleasant to us novices, for we tumbled about a great deal over the stones in the river-bed, and felt as if an upset was quite possible.  The crossing is sometimes dangerous, and there is a rope-ferry, but to-day the water was low and fordable with ease.  We are now no longer in the United States, but in the Indian country.  No ladies have ever taken this journey before except the wives of the agents, who have been there but a few weeks.  In fact, these agencies were only established a short time ago and the Indians are not yet very friendly to them.  The country was wilder, vaster and more barren than ever, with fewer streams and broader divides.  Tantalizing showers flying across the distant mountains did not cool the dry, hot air.  At noon we began to see a long detached ridge, an advanced post of