Phillips ordered Findlay back to the company,
saying he was much needed there, but he was company cook just one
day when he was transferred to the general's own kitchen. Comment is
unnecessary! But it is all for the best, I am sure, for Farrar is very
fond of Hal, and sees how intelligent he is, just as I do. The little
dog is chained to a kennel all the time now, and, like his mistress, is
trying to become dignified.

Faye was made post adjutant this morning, which we consider rather
complimentary, since the post commander is in the cavalry, and there are
a number of cavalry lieutenants here. General Dickinson is a polished
old gentleman, and his wife a very handsome woman who looks almost as
young as her daughter. Miss Dickinson, the general's older daughter, is
very pretty and a fearless rider. In a few days we two are to commence
our morning rides.

How very funny that I should have forgotten to tell you that I have a
horse, at least I hope he will look like a horse when he has gained some
flesh and lost much long hair. He is an Indian pony of very good size,
and has a well-shaped head and slender little legs. He has a fox
trot, which is wonderfully easy, and which he apparently can keep up
indefinitely, and like all Indian horses can "run like a deer." So,
altogether, he will do very well for this place, where rides are
necessarily curtailed. I call him Cheyenne, because we bought him of
Little Raven, a Cheyenne chief. I shall be so glad when I can ride
again, as I have missed so much the rides and grand hunts at Fort Lyon.

Later: The mail is just in, and letters have come from Fort Lyon
telling us of the death of Lieutenant Baldwin! It is dreadful--and seems
impossible. They write that he became more and more despondent, until
finally it was impossible to rouse him sufficiently to take an interest
in his own life. Faye and I have lost a friend--a real, true friend. A
brother could not have been kinder, more considerate than he was to both
of us always. How terribly he must have grieved over the ruin of the
horse he was so proud of, and loved so well!

CAMP SUPPLY, INDIAN TERRITORY, September, 1872.

THE heat here is still intense, and it never rains, so everything is
parched to a crisp. The river is very low and the water so full of
alkali that we are obliged to boil every drop before it is used for
drinking or cooking, and even then it is so distasteful that we flavor
it with sugar of lemons so we can drin