As one sees the Minnehaha
Gleaming, glancing through the branches—
As one hears the Laughing Water
From behind its screen of branches?"
We had now to travel by the Northern Pacific Railroad for 1,200 miles. Before beginning this long journey I was anxious to hear something of Frank, for no telegram or letter had even yet reached me. I am indebted to the general passenger manager at St. Paul, Mr. Chas. S. Fee, for his great courtesy in sending the following telegram, free of cost to me, to his own agent at Bozeman:—
FALLS OF MINNEHAHA.
"Mr. ——, of London, desires that his son, Frank M., whose post-office is Bozeman, shall meet him in Livingston next Wednesday, on arrival of number one. He desires that he shall come equipped for a five days' trip in the Park. Drop this telegram in the post-office at once.—C. S. F."
Livingston is the station about twenty-five miles east of Bozeman, where we branch off southward for the Yellowstone National Park; and I thought surely this would stir the boy up, if alive and well. I need hardly say that my anxiety was increasing. My feverish desire now is to get on to Livingston, as quickly as possible, and my next letter will, I hope, be dated from Frank's abode.
