ACROSS COUNTRY WITH A CAVALRY COLUMN. 133 



of the yellow compound ; another heave ahead, another stop, 

 some more profanity and cracking of whips, and so by degrees 

 they pull the wagon through and stand, panting and hot and 

 wet, on the firm ground on the other side of the " chuck-hole/' 



But the rest of the train must follow, and as each suc- 

 ceeding wagon stirs up the mud the passage will be more 

 and more difficult. There is only one thing to do. " We 

 must ' double-trip ' it." The wagons will have to be relieved 

 of part of their load, and to get everything safely across, 

 double trips must be made. Now then, all hands ! Soldiers 

 and teamsters bustle about, the wagons are partially unpacked, 

 driven over, the remainder of the load taken off, driven back 

 again for that which has been left, again dragged through the 

 mud, reloaded, and moved on until the last wagon is over and 

 the march is resumed. Hours have passed in doing this, and 

 when the train reaches the camp-ground it is already late in 

 the day. 



One rainy evening we stand under the far-spreading branch- 

 es of the giant pines on the edge of a forest in northern 

 Idaho, way on the western side of the mountains, watching the 

 passing column for the last time, as, rounding the outskirts of 

 one of the little towns that have sprung up like mushrooms 

 alono:side of the track of the Northern Pacific, it moves off 

 its camp-ground of the day before. We shake hands heartily 

 with the officers as they pass, and exchange kindly greetings 

 with many of the men. Ati revoir, kind friends! We shall 

 long remember our march with you, and may good -luck at- 

 tend you in your new quarters. Good - by ! May we meet 

 again ! 



