three of
which, however, were brought in.

_September 17_ (Friday). We encamped on the Platte River, after a march
of twenty-four and a half miles. It proved to be a severe march, the
day being hot and the roads dusty. Our canteens became empty toward the
latter part of the march and we suffered greatly for the want of water.
When we came within sight of the river the whole Company made an
unceremonious rush for it--never did water seem more cool and
refreshing. The number of buffaloes seems to increase rather than
diminish. The Company fired two volleys at one, which had the temerity
to approach to within point-blank range. He limped for a few hundred
yards with his grievous load of lead, then quietly lay down and
expired. At another time we fired by file at a herd, to drive it from
the road.

_September 18_ (Saturday). We arrived once more at Fort Kearney, having
marched nineteen and a quarter miles. Not one buffalo was seen during
the whole day, although there was a party detailed to hunt. Their
sudden disappearance surprised us considerably, until we learned that
the grass throughout the last twenty miles is of a kind that the animal
does not relish. We encamped in rear of the Fort, where the water is
most convenient. The man who was left here on the march out, Robert
Ayres, rejoined the Company, having completely recovered.

_September 19_ (Sunday). The day was given up to rest, which our weary
bodies much needed, as the fatiguing nature of the long marches and the
frequent occurrence of our tours of guard duty have drawn very largely
upon our physical energies.

_September 20_ (Monday). We drew rations to-day and made general
preparations for our start to-morrow. Darkness brought with it a
fiddler from the Fort, a real jovial "culluhed puhson," who was not so
much a violinist as a fiddler; who danced "Juba," "Jim Crow," and the
"Old Virginia Break-down," and sang all the Negro songs in the
catalogue for the edification and amusement of his numerous audience.

_September 21_ (Tuesday). We traversed twenty-two and three-quarters
miles of country, and encamped on the hills above Platte Valley. As we
feared the necessity of camping where water could not be found, we
nooned on the river before bidding it farewell. Our cooks made
preparations for soup, but discovered upon examining the meat that by
reason of the warm weather we would have to forego that refreshment. We
filled our water casks before resuming our m