his rarely being taught his profession, or shown how to become skilled in arms or horsemanship, the American soldier is subordinate, quick to obey, ready in expedients, uncomplaining, capable of sustaining great fatigue, brave and trustworthy in action. The previous lack of drill causes much difficulty for company officers when in battle, as the recruit must then be taught on the spur of the moment what ought to have been drilled into him in camp, where in fact his time has been spent in wielding a trowel. But history, even up to to-day, shows that the knight of the hod faces any odds of position or numbers at the command of his officer. If he dies firing a carbine in the use of which he is uninstructed (and even if he were skilled in it, it would still be a weapon inferior to that of his savage foe), he will be lucky if he has a pile of stones heaped up to mark his grave. If he lives through the fight, he will have become somewhat more accustomed to the use of his carbine, and in the next engagement will do better work with it. The country feeds him very well, clothes him tolerably well,—if he can do his duty so as to satisfy his officer, and if he does not catch inflammatory rheumatism from sleeping on the ground, he must be content.

Generally by the time a cavalry officer has reached middle age, his exposed life begins to tell upon him. The cavalry, being mounted, are called upon to do most of the frontier scouting. Some of the infantry are also mounted, especially the Fifth Infantry. Infantry in such cases may simply be classed as cavalry, though armed with a better weapon,—the long Springfield rifle. Marches in the middle of winter occur only too often. In many instances the troops must march with cooked rations and abstain from lighting fires, lest the smoke may give warning to the Indians whom they are pursuing,—and this with the thermometer many degrees below zero. As the Indian is as loath as a bear to leave his winter quarters, and little expects the approach of his foe, such expeditions are often successful, if a "blizzard" does not happen to blow. This blizzard, as it is termed in Montana and Wyoming, or the norther, as it is known in New Mexico, Arizona, and Texas, is a strong, piercing wind from the North, which blows for some three days, and smites everything that is not under cover. If the troops are spared this blizzard, they may strike their wily foe, who has evaded them all summer, and punish him, with no other casualties than those incurred from frozen feet and fingers, and in the fortune of battle. The quartermaster's department furnishes excellent buffalo overcoats and fur caps, and men can march and can live on cold food in the middle of a bitter winter: but when the blizzard comes, the troops must seek the nearest shelter, and use every means to keep themselves alive. In many instances their wagons are broken up for fuel, as there are vast areas on the plains where no timber grows. In the sudden changes of station which the Government is forced to make with troops, by reason of the smallness of our army, much suffering is incurred,—as in case of regiments sent, without halt for acclimation, from Georgia or Louisiana to the British line. But after the troops have become acclimatized, and have learned to be always prepared for the coldest weather, they like the northwestern climate, which is certainly very invigorating.

On occasion of any military expedition, scouts are hired to discover the position and circumstances of the "hostiles," as Indians are called, for attacking whom orders have been issued. Their rewards are usually regulated by the importance of the information they bring and the risks they have run. Many of these men will do excellent service, and sometimes in a modest way. Many more, on the other hand, will lie perdu until their rations are consumed, and then come back with some startling but highly untrue information.