A HARD RIDE IN THE MOUNTAINS. 



J. G. T. 



At a little frontier garrison in the moun- 

 tains of Oregon, where the long winter 

 clays hung in cold monotony, we usually 

 hailed any change of duty with pleasure; 

 albeit the variation might be of a kind 

 bringing only a grim delight. One snowy 



evening in January, Lieut. M put in an 



appearance at our post, bearing an order 

 from headquarters, 359 miles away, for a 

 court-martial to be convened at camp War- 

 ner, still 140 miles farther on, across the 

 wilds of Oregon. 



The detail named him, Lieut. R of 



our camp, and me as members, besides 

 others at the camp beyond. The pros- 

 pect was anything but pleasant, but the 

 thought of meeting comrades whom we had 

 not seen for months, easily reconciled us 

 to the chilly ride. The quarter master fur- 

 nished us transportation from his limited 

 supply, which consisted of one rickety am- 

 bulance drawn by 4 wagon mules, and a 

 spring wagon for baggage, witnesses, and 

 one prisoner to be tried. With this outfit 

 we took our departure. Owing to our late 

 start and the bad condition of the road, 

 only 15 miles were made that day. Toward 

 dusk a spanking team approached, and we 

 were soon hailed by the cheery driver, 

 Lieut. Charley Roe, of my regiment. His 

 rig consisted of an open buggy drawn by 

 4 handsome horses — his own property — 

 gaily decked with sleigh bells. 



Having the same destination as our- 

 selves, he was promptly invited to join our 

 mess. The next morning Roe asked me to 

 take a seat beside him for the rest of the 

 journey. We in due time arrived at camp 

 Warner. 



A few days finished the business of the 

 court. Then we prepared for the journey 

 home. As before, I was to ride with Roe. 

 The wagon containing baggage and 4 sol- 

 diers, witnesses and cook, was started some 

 hours in advance. Roe and I left the post 

 later; while the ambulance was to follow. 



We with the spanking team started in 

 high spirits about noon. We were bowling 

 along merrily, when, at a crossing of a 

 creek in the narrow valley, Roe touched up 

 the leaders. They being unaccustomed to 

 the lash, sprang into the air. This started 

 the wheelers and away they all went. 

 Swerving at a bend in the road, the buggy 

 was upset. Roe clung to the reins, and after 

 a few desperate plunges, the horses became 

 entangled; 2 were thrown and all came to 

 a sudden stop. The buggy was badly 

 broken, so we extricated the team, and re- 

 turned to the garrison. Fortunately, as it 

 might seem, though not so as it came about, 

 the ambulance had not started. Into this 



we got; but Roe insisted on hitching on 

 his team. All went well for about 6 miles, 

 when we reached the summit of a hill with 

 a long descent before us. The team started 

 down, but strangely enough, Roe did not 

 touch the brake till the wagon had such 

 headway it was of no avail. The horses 

 started on a mad gallop; the old ambulance 

 swaying, bumping and jumping. About 

 100 yards from the bottom of the hill, the 

 road curved. Here the old trap, taking the 

 outside rut, slid beautifully in the groove. 

 This great effort at equilibrium exhausted 

 its strength, and one tire parting, on a hind 

 wheel, down we went. The horses were 

 finally stopped within 50 yards of a gorge, 

 that would soon have received us. 



There we were, in the snow, 8 miles from 

 the friends we had just left, and 30 miles 

 from our base of supplies. Our pride 

 would not allow us to return after this 2nd 

 disaster, nor would our condition permit 

 our proceeding bareback. We concluded 

 to bivouac and brace up against the gather- 

 ing snow storm. The prisoner, who was 

 by no means a criminal, showed his pluck 

 by volunteering to go forward and bring 

 back the wagon. Mounting a good horse, 

 he set out. As it was sunset the next day 

 when he returned, it can be imagined how 

 we amused ourselves meantime, without 

 blankets, food or stimulant, and the mer- 

 cury at zero. 



After a short rest for the team that was 

 brought to our rescue, we set out for a 

 night's travel. We all bundled into the 

 little vehicle, from which we soon bun- 

 dled out; for it was impossible to make 

 time with the snow 18 inches deep. All 

 that night we trudged beside the wagon, 

 alternating the belaboring of the mules, by 

 lifting on the wheels. The horses had to 

 be hitched in at intervals to relieve the 

 mules. The whole night's journey was 

 fraught with misery, which our chagrin 

 augmented. 



We marched 30 miles the next day, and 25 

 the following; our progress continually re- 

 tarded by the deep snow. Sometimes it 

 was a little distraction to watch the usual 

 small band of hungry coyotes or little 

 wolves, that followed close beside and be- 

 hind us; coming so near at times that we 

 could hear the hungry snap of their jaws. 



On the night of the second day we made 

 camp in a cheerless hole called Buzzards 

 canyon. The Westerner can always be re- 

 lied on to give an euphonious title to a 

 locality. Now, the next day would be the 

 last day of the month; in fact, the last day 

 of the 2 months; which means in military 



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