During my stay at the fort I had an opportunity to witness one of those atmospheric demonstrations peculiar to the plains. It was one of those windy and turbulent conditions of the ethe-. rial sea called "northers," for convenience, probably, as they are known to blow at various times from all directions. Early in the evening the sky blackened up as if about to deluge the earth with a storm of ink. At about seven o'clock a fearful roar was heard, sounding like the surf beating upon a rockbound shore. There was about as much stir and excitement in the garrison as might be expected on ship-board on a sudden indication of a squall. Windows were fastened down and doors barricaded. In a few moments a terrific volume of wind came thundering up, causing the frail pine dwellings, occupied by the officers, to creak and sway as if the very next moment would see them shivered into fragments. The wind brought with it a variety of waifs, in the way of sticks and pebbles, which pelted against the sides and roofs of the quarters like the rattle of musketry. Clouds of fine sand filled the air, almost to suffocation, and beat into the buildings through the most diminutive apertures.

The next morning, the force of the storm, which had now spent itself, was discernable in a variety of visible exhibitions. Unroofed sheds, boards scattered in every direction, tents blown away, a battery of howitzers forced several feet from their position, ambulances and wagons blown some distance across the parade or out on the plain, some overturned and others with their covers rent into shreds. Indeed it took the garrison several days to gather up the debris and repair damages.

The Commanding General having arrived, a few days later, to make a personal inspection of the buildings and garrison, I took the opportunity of his departure to return to fort Hays. After a hasty cup of coffee, in the gray of the morning, in an ambulance, drawn by four sprightly mules, and followed by an escort of cavalry, we dashed out of the fort. A drive of two hours brought us to Sheridan, where a special train was in readiness.

On the return, the General took occasion to stop at several stations to examine the defences, which the detachments of colored troops distributed along the railroad, had built for themselves, and in which they had displayed wonderful skill and ingenuity. These defences they very aptly termed "underground monitors." The process of building one of these ingenious little defensive works was first to dig a hole ten feet square or more, according to the number of men to be accommodated, and about breast deep. The soil, being very compact, made excellent walls. Upon the surface a sod breast, about eighteen inches thick and a foot high, was built on each face of the square, and over head a plank roof was thrown, covered with a thick mass of earth, rendering the top bullet-proof. In the sod walls and angles a number of loop-holes were cut, allowing free scope for firing in every direction. These works were reached by a subterranean passage, with the entrance as much as thirty feet distant. Where several were built they were connected also by subterranean passages.

A test of the defensible qualities of the "under-ground monitors" was made by a large party of warriors attacking one occupied by five soldiers. The savage party had stumbled upon the "monitor," and approached it out of curiosity. Their curiosity was considerably disturbed upon being received with a volley of bullets. After attempting all sorts of ruses and expedients to dislodge the soldiers, the savages left, having suffered a loss of several of their number. This single experience had a marvellous effect, eliciting a profound and distant recognition for all similar contrivances.

An amusing incident is mentioned, in which the invulnerability of the "monitors" was placed in a very dubious light. One day all except the look-out had retired to the "monitor," which had also the recommendation of affording fine protection from the intolerable heat of the sun. The men were lounging upon bunks which they had constructed within. Quite unexpectedly a huge "diamond" rattle-snake made his appearance. The entire garrison hastily decamped. The hideous old serpent

coiled himself on the ground and began a vigorous presentation of fangs. The late occupants were now on the outside looking in through the port-holes. The triumph of the venomous intruder was short lived. The men opened a volley from without and soon dispatched him.

The "monitor" had achieved such a popularity that it was introduced, very generally, at the stations west of Fort Hays, by the railroad employees, as a place of refuge in an extremity of danger.

At a wood-pile I observed one evidently built for the accommodation of a single person. While stopping to "wood up," I entered into conversation with an old man who seemed to be sole monarch of the establishment, wood-pile included. I inquired of him whether he had any fears of the Indians. He replied: "No; I am an old man, and have not many years longer to live any how; if they come around these parts and get me out there, it will only be cutting off a life already more than most people live." This was, indeed, philosophy reduced to a fine point. The old fellow appeared to be perfectly resigned and cheerful, whatever might be the fate awaiting him.

During the entire journey, we were passing through immense herds of buffalo. As the chances for shooting were admirable, I left the General's car, taking my rifle and posted myself on the cow-catcher, or rather buffalo-catcher of the locomotive. After proceeding about ten miles, we struck a large herd crossing the track. The locomotive pursued its course without diminution of speed. Approaching the herd rather rapidly, I did not favor the idea of receiving a buffalo in my lap, a fact growing momentarily more probable. The herd had passed. One animal lagging in the rear out of bewilderment, or reckless daring, planted himself in the middle of the track, with his head down as much as to say, "Come on who ever you are and we'll try." As I felt no relish to be a party to any such cranial collision, and finding no other convenient place, took a conspicuous but uncomfortable position on the steam-chest, holding on by the rail, I found the temperature as far as my feet were concerned

anything but desirable, but in momentary anticipation of a rare display of buffalo-meat, kept a sharp look-out for the pieces. At this moment, the whistle blew. The buffalo, startled at the shrill sound, made an effort to get out of the way. He succeeded, so far as to have his posteriors pretty well damaged, that is minus his tail, and to wind up with a series of acrobatic exercises over the embankment.

Upon his return to Fort Hays, the Commanding General received dispatches from different parts of the department, indicating greater boldness of the savages than had as yet characterized their operations. A body of one thousand Kiowas, attacked Fort Zarah, on the Arkansas, but were driven off, after a brisk fight. From Fort Lyon in Colorado, it was reported that demonstrations of small parties were daily events. At Fort Harker, on the railroad, seventy-five savages made their appearance, to the consternation of the settlers in the vicinity.

While the Indians were thus occupying themselves, the Commanding General was busily engrossed in perfecting the plans of the campaign, and making every necessary provision for the success of his movements when the proper time should arrive.

The insufficiency of the military force within the department occasioned the calling out of twelve companies of volunteer cavalry from the State of Kansas, to serve for six months unless sooner discharged. As an additional measure to secure success, by the employment of proper guides and trailers, the General opened negotiations with the Osage and Kaw tribes of Indians in Kansas, and the Utes in New Mexico, asking them to furnish a number of warriors, stipulating to pay them for their services, and giving them liberty to take and keep all Indian ponies they might capture in the campaign. Each of these tribes promised to send some of their best men. The Utes and Osages were particularly the mortal enemies of the Kiowas and Cheyennes. During the previous summer a war party of Utes left their haunts in New Mexico and, after marching on foot a distance of over five hundred miles, fell upon a

band of Kiowas, completely routed them, captured a number of ponies, took many scalps, and, more calamitous than all, got possession of the "medicine" of the band. As might be inferred, the Kiowas had a superstitious dread of the very name Ute. The employment of these people, therefore, would be a valuable accession to the army in the special duty for which their assistance was solicited.