September 8 (Wednesday). We marched twenty and a half miles and once more encamped on the North Platte.
September 9 (Thursday). We encamped near Ash Hollow, a distance of seventeen and a half miles. We followed the sandy bed of the Hollow until we arrived at the point where the road leaves it and ascends a high hill. Before undertaking the ascent, we unharnessed the mules, turned them out to grass, and ate our dinner. Night found us crossing the hills between the two forks of the Platte, beneath a steady fall of rain. We were at last obliged to encamp upon the road, where no water could be obtained; but we had anticipated this want, having brought all the barrels and kegs that we could possibly muster filled with water from the spring in the hollow.
September 10 (Friday). We pitched our camp on the south side of the South Fork of the Platte River, concluding a march of eighteen and a half miles. The crossing of the river was very different from that of three months ago; we merely rolled up our pantaloons and forded the stream, coming out on the other side perfectly dry, the water being no place more than knee deep. We continued along the river about four miles and then encamped.
September 11 (Saturday). We marched twenty-three and a half miles and encamped again on the South Fork. We passed a mule-train which was taking out the families of the Fourth Artillery and the Second Dragoons.
September 12 (Sunday). We stayed in camp to-day for a rest. A few of us got together and prepared what in this country is called a sumptuous dinner—boiled tongue, fried bacon and beefsteak, liver and onions, flap-jacks, boiled rice and chocolate. This feast being spread out in tempting array on the ground, two or three of the men in the next tent were invited to dinner and we gathered around it, sitting cross-legged. In the afternoon the tent was converted into a wine press. Some of the men had found grapes in their rambles and brought as many as they could carry. Accordingly, putting all the empty cups into the service, we pressed the grapes into them, mashing them with our hands. After working indefatigably a couple of hours, staining ourselves from head to foot and spoiling all the silk handkerchiefs we could obtain in the process of straining, we procured about a gallon of grape juice.
September 13 (Monday). We encamped at Fremonts Spring, having marched twenty-four and a half miles. This is a very poor camp site. The water is stagnant, being found only in a slough of black mud, and fuel is very scarce. The comet which was discovered June 2d by Donati was rediscovered by us this evening; the appearance of the phenomenon was highly interesting, as we had an excellent opportunity of seeing it over our prairie horizon.
September 14 (Tuesday). We marched twenty-five and three-quarter miles, and encamped near Box Elder Creek. The water is even worse than at Fremonts Spring, and we were obliged to dig for some that was fit for use. The mosquitoes being very numerous and bloodthirsty here, we burnt an incense of buffalo chips in our tent this evening. Several buffaloes were seen during the march, feeding, about a mile from the road and almost at the foot of the sand hills which extend the whole length of the river. They were too far off, however, to permit a chase.
September 15 (Wednesday). We encamped on the main Platte, after a march of twenty-five and three-quarter miles. When we left camp, this morning, a shaggy brute of a buffalo came very close to the company; he soon paid the forfeit of his life for his curiosity, being shot by Lieutenant Alexander. A short time afterward a small herd came close to us. Lieutenant Alexander gave chase and wounded a fine, large fellow that ran directly toward us. When he came within range a half-dozen of us crept toward him, but at the first shot, being hit, he turned about and ran in a different course. We continued the chase, but were all recalled to the company except one, who followed the animal, firing at intervals, and watched by us with intense interest. At last the buffalo seemed exhausted and stopped, the hunter drawing near him. We saw the man shoot and saw the beast leap into the air, then turn and charge on the man who had fired at him. The whole Company started to his rescue, loading as we ran, and the first few shots turned the buffalo toward the hills, in which direction he bounded with mighty strides, notwithstanding the fact that he was riddled with bullets. He was finished later by some of the men with the train, and brought into camp.
The valley, on the other side of the river, is literally black with buffaloes. Soon after we made camp a large fellow waded leisurely across the river, just in front of the camp, so that we were able to get a near view of him. He was one of the ugliest of these ugly brutes. Shot after shot was fired at the animal, yet he stood firm and resolute, not a motion betraying pain or fear. There was something noble in the manner in which he faced his persecutors, as though, knowing he could not reach them, he could yet show them he knew how to die. Suddenly he curved his tail, a shudder went through his mighty frame, and he rolled over dead. The men waded out and cut him up. After dark the wolves finished what the men had left.
September 16 (Thursday). We marched twenty-four and a half miles and camped near Plum Creek. The buffaloes made their appearance in great numbers; one small herd ran across the road, directly in front of the train, which sudden charge frightened the mules into a general, though short-lived, stampede. Nine buffaloes were killed to-day, only three of which, however, were brought in.