When the deer went up Pete went up, too, on the steep hill, and as I was on his back I had to go with him. The horse was badly frightened, snorted, and raised his tail high, and when I tried to get him down on the trail, the higher up he went on the rolling stones. I could almost touch the side of the mountain with my whip in places, it was so steep. It was a most dangerous position to be in, and just what elevation I might have been carried to eventually I do not know, had not the deer stopped his crashing through the bushes and bounded up on the opposite bank, directly in front of the first team of mules, and then on he streaked it across a plateau and far up a mountain side, his short white tail showing distinctly as he ran. With the deer, Pete seemed to think that the Evil One had gone, too, and consented to return to the trail and to cross the stream over to the wagons.
The corporal had stopped the wagons until he saw that I was safely down, and I asked him why he had not killed the deer—we are always in need of game—and he said that he had not seen him until he was in front of the mules, and that it was impossible then, as the deer did not wait for them to get the rifles out of their cases on the bottom of the wagons. That evening at the whist table I told Colonel Palmer about the deer and Pete, and saw at once that I had probably gotten the poor corporal in trouble. Colonel Palmer was very angry that the men should even think of going several miles from the post, in an Indian country, with their rifles cased and strapped so they would have been practically useless in case of an attack.
Faye says that the men were not thinking of Indians, but simply trying to keep their rifles from being marred and scratched, for if they did get so they would be "jumped" at the first inspection. Colonel Palmer gave most positive orders for the soldiers to hold their rifles in their hands on their way to and from the mountains, which perhaps is for the best.
But I am afraid they will blame me for such orders having been issued.
FORT MAGINNIS, MONTANA TERRITORY, October, 1880.
IT is not surprising that politicians got a military post established here, so this wonderful country could be opened and settled, for the country itself is not only beautiful, but it has an amount of game every place that is almost beyond belief. Deer are frequently seen to come down from the mountains to the creek for water, and prairie chicken would come to our very tents, I fancy, if left to follow their inclinations.
Faye is officer of the day every third day, but the other two days there is not much for him to do, as the company is now working on the new quarters under the supervision of the quartermaster. So we often go off on little hunts, usually for chicken, but sometimes we go up on one of the mountains, where there are quantities of ruffed grouse. These are delicious, with meat as tender and white as young chicken, and they are so pretty, too, when they spread the ruffs around their necks and make fans of their short tail feathers.
Yesterday we went out for birds for both tables—the officers' mess and our own. The other officers are not hunters, and Faye is the possessor of the only shotgun in the garrison, therefore it has been a great pleasure to us to bring in game for all. Faye rides Bettie now altogether, so I was on Pete yesterday. We had quite a number of chickens, but thought we would like to get two or three more; therefore, when we saw a small covey fly over by some bushes, and that one bird went beyond and dropped on the other side, Faye told me to go on a little, and watch that bird if it rose again when he shot at the others. It is our habit usually for me to hold Faye's horse when he dismounts to hunt, but that time he was some distance away, and had slipped his hand through the bridle rein and was leading Bettie that way. Both horses are perfectly broken to firearms, and do not in the least mind a gun. I have often seen Bettie prick up her ears and watch the smoke come from the barrel with the greatest interest.
Everything went on very well until I got where I might expect to see the chicken, and then I presume I gave more thought to the bird than to the ground the horse was on. At all events, it suddenly occurred to me that the grass about us was very tall, and looking down closely I discovered that Pete was in an alkali bog and slowly going down. I at once tried to get him back to the ground we had just left, but in his frantic efforts to get his feet out of the sticky mud, he got farther to one side and slipped down into an alkali hole of nasty black water and slime. That I knew to be exceedingly dangerous, and I urged the horse by voice and whip to get him out before he sank down too deep, but with all his efforts he could do nothing, and was going down very fast and groaning in his terror.
Seeing that I must have assistance without delay, I called to Faye to come at once, and sat very still until he got to us, fearing that if I changed my position the horse might fall over. Faye came running, and finding a tuft of grass and solid ground to stand upon, pulled Pete by the bridle and encouraged him until the poor beast finally struggled out, his legs and stomach covered with the black slime up to the flaps of my saddle, so one can see what danger we were in. There was no way of relieving the horse of my weight, as it was impossible for me to jump and not get stuck in the mud myself. This is the only alkali hole we have discovered here. It is screened by bunches of tall grass, and I expect that many a time I have ridden within a few feet of it when alone, and if my horse had happened to slip down on any one of these times, we probably would have been sucked from the face of the earth, and not one person to come to our assistance or to know what had happened to us.