In addition to one company of the 18th regulars, there were stationed at the post under O'Brien two companies of the 5th U. S. Volunteers, and a company of the 2nd U. S. Cavalry. We learned that on the occasion of the burning of the post at Julesburg, about two thousand savages, with yells and whoops, suddenly closed in upon the town, but were met by a detail of troops from the fort. The Indians used chiefly bows and arrows. The surviving soldiers were relieved after twenty-two comrades had been killed and scalped by the Indians. The town was pillaged and burned to the ground with heavy loss of supplies to the stage company. Fifty thousand dollars in money was captured from a single coach. The estimated loss in Julesburg as the result of this attack, which occurred on February 2, 1865, was $115,100. The additional losses sustained by Ben Holliday in the raids occurring at that time, including losses of horses and stages, and the various stage stations destroyed by the Indians along the Platte River, were finally placed at $375,839, for the recovery of which amount a bill was introduced in Congress. The loss to emigrants would not be reported as would that of stage companies that transport the U. S. Mail. The stage lines in those days were frequently put entirely out of service for a time by Indian depredations.

If there had ever been any timber along the Platte near Julesburg, it had now disappeared. A small pine log six feet in length which, it was stated, had been brought sixty miles, was purchased by Paul Beemer for one dollar, for fire wood. That price, however, was less than its original cost, for Captain O'Brien stated that wood cost the Government $625 per cord.

In a yard nearby, adobe or sun-dried bricks were being made, the size being about 8x12 inches. They were to be used in the rebuilding of Julesburg. None had yet been used in new construction. To be exact, Julesburg at the time of our visit consisted of six widely separated framed houses, on the old ruins, one being a blacksmith shop. The most imposing of the buildings was a billiard parlor, as indicated by the sign on its front. As a detachment from our party were sauntering by the wide-open door of the last named palace of amusement, an altercation had just commenced, the casus belli being the price of two bags of shelled corn. Two men who had just entered the room of the saloon at once approached a stalwart man who was pushing ivory balls across a billiard table, and demanded more money for the corn. "Not another cent; I paid all I agreed to pay," was the sharp reply of the player, who for a moment discontinued his game. "It's a damn lie and you know it, and if you don't shell out damn quick, we'll take it out of you," was the call to combat delivered by one of the newly arrived pair who, like all others there except the proprietor, were transients. The big end of a billiard cue, swung with terrific force, instantly crashed against the head of the corn seller, and swiftly whirling again in the air it grazed the disappearing form of the silent partner, who escaped through the door. The prostrate spokesman of the pair was lifted to his feet by bystanders and assisted to the open air, and the game proceeded.

We had previously learned that arrangements had been in progress for several months, with the view of holding an important council at Fort Laramie with several Indian tribes then on unfriendly terms with the whites. It was hoped that a treaty might settle the issues which for a considerable time had been the cause of continued dissension. At Julesburg we learned that according to the latest advices received there, no treaty had been concluded, although the tribes had assembled. It was further reported that Indian warriors to the number of 15,000 had disappeared from their customary haunts and were apparently removing their families to safer places, preparatory to taking the war-path, unless a satisfactory settlement should be made. The question for us now to determine was, should we take the Bitter Creek route through Bridger's Pass and thus keep as far south and west of the disputed territory as possible, or proceed by Fort Laramie and "the new cut off" by Fort Reno, the route which the Indians were demanding must be closed to white travel.

A feeling of despondency prevailed among the few whites remaining at Julesburg, mingled with a bitter sentiment toward the Government for the manner in which the negotiations had thus far been conducted, it being the belief that the interests of sutlers and Indian agents had been treated as paramount. It seemed impossible for us at this time to obtain definite information as we desired, but the almost universal impression was that the Indians were being fed, armed, and otherwise put into favorable condition to prosecute war upon the settlers and emigrants whenever they should decide to turn their backs upon the unsatisfactory terms demanded from them.

As is well known, Indians lack the faculty of organization on a large scale. Tecumseh, Pontiac, and other tribal leaders finally failed because of this fact. The tribes that were involved in the controversy to which we have referred were chiefly the Sioux or Dakotas, the Mountain Crows, the Cheyennes, and the Arapahoes. Each of these tribes was divided into numerous independent bands, each recognizing no authority beyond its own chief. A common language, and the tribal superstitions and customs, are the only bond that was calculated to unite them, otherwise, so far as can be learned from observation and from various writings, they were as independent one of another as the Anglo-Saxon stock of Minnesota is independent of the same stock in Manitoba. A common cause might unite them for a time, but each would still be under its own leadership. There is no great head to the tribe as a whole. As the tribes are divided into bands, so each band is divided into villages, each having its own chief. Parkman states that the chiefs are "honored and obeyed only so far as their personal qualities may command respect or fear." Some chiefs have attained much power and are recognized in the histories of our country. Such were Sogoyewatha, the orator of the Senecas, Blackhawk of the Sacs, Red Cloud, to whom we shall refer later, and several other chiefs of national reputation. The Western Dakotas, of late years known as Sioux, had no fixed place of abode. They were incessantly wandering both in summer and winter, and the buffalo furnished them most of the necessities of life. Its flesh, which was usually sun-dried, or jerked, as the process is termed, furnished food; its skin their habitations and beds; its fat was fuel; other parts supplied powerful strings for their bows, also glue, thread, cordage, and boats. Was it strange, then, that the unnecessary slaughter of these valuable animals upon which they had learned to depend, and their slaughter on the best of the remaining hunting grounds, should arouse the earnest protest of the redskins?

In view of the general conditions, we held a council in the evening, and as arguments are easily forthcoming to sustain any personal desire or predilection, we, as many young men would have done, decided to go by the Laramie route. This was on the theory or pretext that we were likely to get over the mountains before the Indians could inaugurate a general warfare, and before the treaty gathering at Laramie could be concluded. As a fact, we were disposed to go by that route because we believed that more of interest promised to happen along that trail; besides, the natural attractions appeared more inviting than on the Bridger route. The rapid rise in the river, indeed, brought rather a serious obstacle to confront us, but we determined to attempt the crossing in the morning. For a time in the year 1864, prior to the diversion of the stage line to the Bridger route, a ferry was maintained at this crossing, but in the following year it was permanently abandoned.

We had not forgotten to inquire after the condition of the wounded young driver who had preceded us. The post surgeon reported that he was progressing favorably and that the doctor who had dressed the wound had done it as well as could be expected of an amateur; in other words, he had done nothing except to bandage it. We were permitted to congratulate the young man on his safe trip to that point.

BUFFALOS