bullet wound they managed to get within sight of the camp, where two
men of the Second Cavalry found them and brought them in.

Sibley's men threw themselves on the ground, too exhausted to go
another step. Hot food was brought them, and they soon were strong
enough to go to Camp Cloud Peak, to receive the hospitality and
sympathy of their comrades. The two men who had been left behind were
brought in and cared for.

This expedition was one of the most perilous in the history of the
Plains, and the fact that there were any survivors is due to the skill,
coolness, and courage of the two scouts, Grouard and Pourier.

CHAPTER X

My work on the Plains brought me many friends, among them being some of
the truest and staunchest that any man ever had. You who live your
lives in cities or among peaceful ways cannot always tell whether your
friends are the kind who would go through fire for you. But on the
Plains one's friends have an opportunity to prove their mettle. And I
found out that most of mine would as cheerfully risk their lives for me
as they would give me a light for my pipe when I asked it.

Such a friend was old "Buffalo Chips," who certainly deserves a place
in these memoirs of mine.

One morning while I was sitting on my porch at North Platte, playing
with my children, I saw a man limping on crutches from the direction of
the Post hospital. He was a middle-aged man, but had long, flowing
white hair, and the most deeply-pitted face I have ever beheld.

Noticing that he seemed confused and in trouble, I sent the children
out to bring him to me. He came up haltingly, and in response to my
questioning told me that he had been rejected by the hospital because
he had been a Confederate soldier and it was against their rules to
accept any but Union veterans.

I turned the stranger over to my sister, who prepared a meal for him
while I went over to the adjutant's office to see what could be done. I
met General Emory in the adjutant's office, and on my promise to pay
the ex-Confederate's bills, he gave me an order admitting him to the
hospital. Soon my new protege, who said his name was Jim White, was
duly installed, and receiving the treatment of which he stood in sore
need.

In a few weeks he had nearly recovered from the wound in his leg which
had necessitated the use of his crutches. Every day he came to my house
to play with the children and to care for my horses, a service for
which he gruffly re