A CAMP WASHING DAY.
28th.—The Captain told us this morning that we should stop here for a day or two to rest ourselves. And now began a most ludicrous scene. Every camp kettle and other vessel that would hold water was brought in requisition, and the whole regiment commenced washing their clothes. To me it was a most singular sight. While rubbing away at our clothes a rumor reached us that we were on the route to Santa Fe, instead of California. This was news, and what with washing and what with talking we were kept pretty busy. On the route to Santa Fe, though we entered the journey for California. But alas! no matter where we are. We found our trip was not a “pleasure excursion,” as many of our imaginations had so often pictured. The two soldiers we left to-day have just come in, after digging the grave of their poor comrade.
29th.—This morning we caught some black trout and cat fish in the Big John. They were very fine. Col. Price had gone ahead, and at 12 o’clock we struck our tents, passed Council Grove, and encamped at 2 o’clock a few miles further on, where there is a blacksmith shop, established by the government. Here I left letters for my friends in Maryland, to be carried back by the return mail to Fort Leavenworth.
Sunday, 30th.—Saw near the road, one of those singular mounds, of which I have so often read. It towered beautifully to the height of 100 feet. It may have been a mount of observation; it may be filled with the bones of the red men of the forest. I have no time, however, to speculate upon subjects so foreign from my present employment. At the end of 8 miles, we came to Rock Creek, and 7 miles further we arrived at Diamond Spring, where we halted for the night.
31st.—This morning I filled my canteen with the refreshing water of Diamond Spring. At the spring I counted 45 wagons loaded with provisions for the army. Yesterday we entered upon the far-famed plains at Rock Creek. The scenery presents a dull monotony, a vast plain, almost level, bounded by the horizon and covered with a thin sward and herbage.
September 1st.—Came to a place, called the “Lost Spring,” a most singular curiosity. The stream rises suddenly out of the ground, and after rushing over the sand a few yards, as suddenly sinks, and is no more seen.
2nd.—To-day we are at the Cotton Wood Fork. It takes its name from a large cluster of cotton trees, the first I had seen after leaving Diamond Spring. There is a good stream of water here, and we enjoyed the blessing of a fine shower of rain. A little misunderstanding took place among the officers about starting. Some of them were too slow in their movements and caused our Captain to collect his men and make a speech. Several of the men were disgusted and become uproarious. A march of eight miles, however, to Turkey Creek, settled the question, and all appeared in pretty good humor. Three miles further on, we came to 2nd Turkey Creek, nine miles beyond to 3rd Turkey Creek and encamped. Turkey Creeks are plenty in this vicinity. How we would have rejoiced if the turkeys had been as plenty as the titles of the streams indicated. Third Turkey Creek is a lovely stream, running through the prairie. Here we wanted wood to cook with. As yet we had not seen any game with the exception of two rabbits, caught by our men. They were of a novel species, almost white, with long black ears, and as large as a grey fox.
3rd.—About 12 o’clock to-day we came in sight of timber. Passed the 4th Turkey Creek, and after travelling 18 miles, encamped on the banks of the little Arkansas, which at some seasons is a bold stream, with tremendous cliffs that can be seen at a long distance.
4th.—We are all huddled together in our tents, in consequence of a heavy storm of wind and rain, which came on last night. Some of the tents blew down, and most of the company were in a bad fix. Fires were necessary to keep us warm. We left at 8 o’clock, and after travelling 10 miles, came to Owl Creek. Five miles from Owl Creek we reached Cow Creek, where we encamped. On the left we could see cliffs and timber at a great distance, and some small white spots like sand hills. On the right, nothing but a vast prairie. Just before we arrived at the Cow Creek an antelope was started. Our boys gave chase and fired several times, but they missed him and he finally escaped. They must shoot better in fight with the enemy. We had scarcely fixed up our tents, when the news came that a buffalo was in sight. In an instant, men on horseback, fully armed, were in pursuit from every direction. He was less fortunate than the antelope. The men had improved a little and they overtook their game after a considerable chase, during which they fired fifty times. They killed him at last and brought some of the flesh to the camp. It was of very little use, for with all our cooking, it was too tough to eat. He was a bull at least 20 years old. We had better let the old patriarch run.