alongside of them, and some of our company finding old friends in the other train, both trains were stopped to have a little friendly conversation. A few moments afterwards a dog belonging to the other train, frightened the mules belonging to one of their wagons, ahead of which there were a span of high spirited horses, causing them to break out of the train and run, when instantly the dog jumped upon one of the mules and bit him severely, and adding much more to their fright. The wagon was loaded to the top of the bows, on the top of which sat the driver who reined the horses and mules for some time until a line broke, when they turned down a steep gully, turning the wagon completely over, and burying the driver under the load, the leaders (horses) broke clear from the mules, and the latter turned over and came upon their feet, the reverse from their original position, the nigh one being on the off side, and the off one on the nigh side. The horses ran in one direction, whilst the mules ran in another, with the forward wheels attached to them, and the dog with another belonging to the train chasing them. The horses were soon caught by Litwiler, who sprang upon one of our horses and gave chase, but the mules were not caught until the dogs were shot, although frequently surrounded by the men, they being so frightened that they would have ran directly over them. We got the driver out from under the goods as soon as possible, found him badly bruised and cut up, and bleeding freely, but sensible, which was more than we expected, as we thought we should find him killed outright. The wagon was completely broken to pieces, and they were compelled to encamp the train to repair the damage and to take care of the injured man. I never saw him afterwards, and have never heard whether he recovered; it is possible that he did, yet as they had two doctors in the train it is uncertain. The train belonged to Hennepin, Ill., and the same unlucky dog I was told had killed a mule for the train once before since they started.

We reached the Little Blue river about noon. The Little Blue is about 30 feet wide, and about 3 deep, good banks and sandy bottom; the water is good, and flows in a quick current. It is skirted with cotton wood trees, with some oak and ash the whole length of it. The timber generally lies on the west bank of the river, and averages from 20 to 100 rods in width. It furnishes good camping grounds all along its bottoms.

One of the men killed an antelope this evening which was divided up amongst the different messes in the train.

25 miles.

18th. Saturday. We saw some Pawnees to-day, for the first time—four came to the road to trade—about 20 more were hid in a gully a short distance from us, who were seen by some of our men, although they tried hard enough to secrete themselves. They are a treacherous, ill-looking set, and I did not like the looks of them much. They have too much of the cat look in their eyes, and when I see that in an Indian, I always look out for treachery. We saw some buffalo to-day—one was killed last night a short distance above our camp. We camped this night on the Little Blue, where we found plenty of grass. Litwiler and Ranahan killed two antelope this evening, which furnished our camp with fresh meat again. We found plenty of signs of beaver this night, our sentries hearing them splashing their tails in the water nearly all night; on the banks of the river were trees one foot in diameter cut down by them.

22 miles.

19. Sunday. We concluded to travel to-day. Left the Blue for the last time about noon. A man had three horses and $500 stolen last night by his own guard, who left him with his wife and two other women without a team. We took in water at the last place that we struck the Blue river, having 21 miles to travel without good water. Met a train coming from Robadeau's trading post, with five wagon loads of buffalo skins and other peltries. We stopped and wrote letters and sent back to the States by them, for which we paid them 25 cents for each letter. Robadeau himself was along, riding in a nice covered carriage, smoking his pipe, enjoying all the comfort imaginable.

25 miles.

20th. We camped last night on the prairie without wood or water, only some rotten slough water, bad enough to poison a horse. We had a wind storm, with heavy thunder, just at night, but no rain. It came upon us instantly without warning, and before we could secure our tents they were all blown down but two, which were protected by, and secured to the wagons. It was terrific, raising loaded wagons on the side next to the wind, two feet from the ground; we expected they would be blown over, and nothing saved them from being overturned but their loads, for if they had not been loaded they would have been swept away before the wind like feathers. Some of the time it was impossible for a man to keep his feet. I never saw such a storm of wind in the States, and hope I may not see another on this journey. We drove 26 miles and camped on an island in the Platte, or Nebraska river, about two miles below Fort Kearney, where we found plenty of grass and fuel. Saw some antelope, deer and buffalo to-day, but did not try to kill any.

26 miles.

21st. Remained over to repair damages, and to cut our wagon boxes off and make them shorter. Had some rain in the morning. A report is current here this morning that a train was cut off by the Indians on Sunday night, (where we baited Sunday noon.) A company of dragoons have left the Fort to-day to investigate the matter. Fort Kearney is considerable of a fort, built of adobies or unburnt brick. It is built in the form of a paralelogram, the centre forming a square which is defended by a park of artillery. The garrison consists of about 250 soldiers, who seem to be under excellent discipline. The commander's name I did not learn. The whole affair seems to be well calculated to keep the Indians in check, but I think would be of very little account in repelling an attack made by scientific troops, supported with good artillery.

22d. Started again this morning, traveled 22 miles up the Platte river. Our road lay along the Platte bottom, and was very good, but somewhat slippery from the rain that fell day before yesterday. The Platte bottom on this side of the river, is from 10 to 15 miles wide, being terminated on the side opposite from the river by high sand hills or bluffs. The river itself is about two miles wide, with a swift current, but filled up with innumerable islands and sand bars.

22 miles.

23d. Our road still leads up the Platte bottoms. The land is very good, and we find some grass, best where there is no wood, except some willows and cotton wood on the islands in the river. We saw some antelope and buffalo to-day, but they were back on the bluffs, and our men thought too much of their spare horses to follow them.

25 miles.

24th. Continue still up the Platte bottom. We found some excellent springs of cool water, which were a treat to us, as we have had a very hot day, and our water has all along been muddy river water. We were compelled to use buffalo chips to-day for fuel, there being no wood. I suppose many of my lady readers would rather turn up their noses at a hoe cake baked on buffalo chips, but I assure them I saw ladies, who were genteel, that seemed to eat cakes baked with this fuel with great apparent relish. The buffalo chips used are droppings of buffalo the year previous. They become entirely dry, and make very good fuel, and are the main dependance for cooking for the next 300 miles, and until we get into the sage country. One of our men waded the Platte river to-day while we were baiting. The water was about three feet deep, except on the sand bars, where it was often not over six inches deep. The width of the river is about one mile. We began to find alkali on the surface of the ground to-day. In some places it was half an inch in depth, and tastes like air slacked salæratus. We found but