226 WILD 1SEASTS AND THEIR WAYS CHAP. 



as we left the treeless expanse of prairie, and drove over high land 

 through picturesque forests of spruce firs among rocks and canyons. 

 About 20 miles of this scenery was passed ; then we descended a 

 long slope, and once more emerged upon the dreary, treeless prospect. 



At the end of 35 miles another speck was seen, which eventually 

 turned out to be a station similar to that at which we had halted 

 in the morning. There were two pretty-looking and clean girls 

 here ; they had come to assist their brother, who " ran " the house. 

 It was curious to observe the little evidences of civilisation which 

 the presence of these girls had introduced. At first sight, among a 

 rude community, I should have had strong misgivings concerning the 

 security of young girls without a mother ; but, on the contrary, I 

 was assured that no man would ever presume to insult a respectable 

 woman, and the girls were safer here than they would be at New 

 York. It was a delightful anomaly in a society which otherwise 

 was exceedingly brutal, that a good woman possessed a civilising 

 power which gained the respect of her rough surroundings, and, by 

 an unpretentious charm, softened both speech and morals. 



It was to be regretted that this benign influence could not have 

 been extended to the vermin. When the lamp was extinguished, 

 the bed was alive. I always marvelled at the phrase, " he took up 

 his bed and walked," but if the bugs had been unanimous, they 

 could have walked off with the bed without a miracle. Sleeping 

 was impossible. I relighted the paraffin lamp, a retreat was 

 evidently sounded, and the enemy retired. Presently an explosion 

 took place the lamp had gone wrong, and burst, fortunately with- 

 out setting the place on fire. An advance was sounded, and the 

 enemy came on, determined upon victory. 



I never slept in one of those prairie stations again, but we pre- 

 ferred a camp sheet and good blankets on the sage-bush, with the 

 sky for a ceiling. 



On arrival at Fort Fetterman, 90 miles from Rock Creek station, 

 the coach drew up at a log-house of greater pretensions than those 

 upon the prairie. I had letters of introduction from General 

 McDowell (who was Commander-in-Chief of the Pacific Coast) to 

 Colonel Gentry, who commanded Fort Fetterman, and Major 

 Powell of the same station. 



Not wishing to drive up to the door of his private house, we 

 alighted at the log-hut which represented the inn. The room was 

 horridly dirty, the floor was sanded, and there was a peculiar smell 

 of bad drink, and an expression of depravity about the establishment. 



The host was a tall man, attired as usual in a flannel shirt and 

 trousers, with a belt and revolver. He had evidently observed an 



