trying storm soaked through clothing, and dampened the courage of our bravest. The rain which set in about four in the afternoon, just as we were making camp, suddenly changed to hail of large size, which, with the sudden fall in temperature, chilled and frightened our herds of horses and mules, and had the good effect of making them cower together in fear, instead of stampeding, as we had about concluded they would surely do. Lightning played about us with remorseless vividness, and one great bolt crashed within camp limits, setting fire to the grass on a post near the sentinel.
The 29th and 30th of August we remained in bivouac at a spring on the summit of the ridge overlooking the head waters of Cabin Creek, while our blankets and clothing were drying; and the scouts reconnoitred to the front and flanks to learn what was possible regarding the trail, which seemed much fresher, as if made only a few days previously. Hunting detachments were sent out on each flank to bring in deer, antelope and jack rabbits for the sick, of whom we now had a number suffering from neuralgia, rheumatism, malaria, and diarrhœa. Lieutenant Huntington was scarcely able to sit his horse, and Lieutenant Bache had to be hauled in a "travois."
The night of August 31, 1876, was so bitter cold that a number of General Crook's staff, commissioned and enlisted, had a narrow escape from freezing to death. In our saturated condition, with clothing scant even for summer, we were in no condition to face a sudden "norther," which blew vigorously upon all who were encamped upon the crests of the buttes but neglected those in the shelter of the ravines. The scenery in this neighborhood was entrancing. Mr. Finerty accompanied me to the summit of the bluffs, and we looked out upon a panorama grander than any that artist would be bold enough to trace upon canvas. In the western sky the waning glories of the setting sun were most dazzling. Scarlet and gold, pink and yellow—in lovely contrast or graceful harmony—were scattered with reckless prodigality from the tops of the distant hills to near the zenith, where neutral tints of gray and pale blue marked the dividing line between the gorgeousness of the vanishing sunlight and the more placid splendors of the advancing night, with its millions of stars. The broken contour of the ground, with its deeply furrowed ravines, or its rank upon rank of plateaux and ridges, resembled
