arranged symmetrically in a meadow bounded on three sides by the stream; the herds of animals grazing or running about; the trains of wagons and mules passing from point to point, united to form a picture of animation and spirit. We had a train of one hundred and three six-mule wagons, besides one of hundreds of pack-mules; and the work of ferriage became too great for mortal strength, and the ferrymen were almost exhausted both by their legitimate duties and by those of mending and splicing the boat and the cable which were leaking or snapping several times a day.
May 29, 1876, saw the column moving out from its camp in front of Fort Fetterman; the long black line of mounted men stretched for more than a mile with nothing to break the sombreness of color save the flashing of the sun's rays back from carbines and bridles. An undulating streak of white told where the wagons were already under way, and a puff of dust just in front indicated the line of march of the infantry battalion. As we were moving along the same road described in the campaign of the winter, no further mention is necessary until after passing old Fort Reno. Meinhold, with two companies, was sent on in advance to reconnoitre the country, and report the state of the road as well as any signs of the proximity of large bands of the enemy. Van Vliet was instructed to push ahead, and keep a look-out for the Crow and Shoshone scouts who had promised to join the command at or near Reno. In spite of the fact that summer was already with us, a heavy snow-storm attacked the column on June 1st, at the time of our coming in sight of the Big Horn Mountains. The day was miserably cold, water froze in the camp-kettles, and there was much discomfort owing to the keen wind blowing down from the frozen crests of the Big Horn. From Reno, Gruard, Richaud, and "Big Bat" were sent to see what had become of the Crows, and lead them back to our command on the line of march.
Before he left Frank gave an account, from the story told him by the Sioux who had participated in it, of the massacre near this place of the force of officers and men enticed out from old Fort Kearney. In this sad affair we lost three officers—Fetterman, Brown, and Grummond—and seventy-five enlisted, with three civilians, names unknown. The Sioux admitted to Frank that they had suffered to the extent of one hundred and eighty-five,
