Such was the mental address which dwelt in our minds to-day, when we
received orders to return with all expedition and resume our customary
duties at West Point. The joyous prospect of meeting with old
associations and once more clasping the hands of our dear friends was
partially dampened by thoughts of the long, weary distance between us
and them, and of the numerous hardships and difficulties which lie
before us. We are to return by the Northern Route, through the South
Pass and Fort Laramie, and as we are to start early Monday we are
busily engaged to-day in making the necessary preparations.

_August 7_ (Saturday). To-day we finished our preparations for the
march and devoted the remainder of the day to rest. Many changes were
made in the personnel of the teamsters and other employees. As many of
the teamsters of the commissary train desired to return to the States,
they were sent to drive for us, and our teamsters were taken to supply
their places, the Sixth Infantry being under orders to proceed to
Oregon. One individual we parted with reluctantly, Mr. Dwyer, the
assistant wagon-master of our train, a man of noble character and a
great favorite with us. He was appointed full wagon-master in the
Sixth.

_August 8_ (Sunday). This was hailed as a day of rest, on which we did
nothing but think of the number of miles to be travelled before
reaching our much-wished-for haven.

_August 9_ (Monday). We started upon our return march, encamping on
Blacks Fork, a distance of eighteen and a quarter miles.

_August 10_ (Tuesday). We encamped on Blacks Fork again, after a march
of sixteen and three-quarter miles. When we were approaching the bridge
at Hams Fork one of our men, Bourcey, the blacksmith, was thrown from
the forge, the mules having been frightened at the body of a dead ox
lying in the road. His face was badly cut and it was feared he was
injured internally, as the wheel passed across his breast. He was left
at the bridge, in care of the guard stationed there.

_August 11_ (Wednesday). We reached the upper crossing of the Green
River. This has proved a very severe march, owing to the heat and sandy
road and to the length of the march, twenty-three and a third miles.
About 9 a.m. we arrived at the junction of this road and the new one we
made through Bridgers Pass. We reached the lower crossing of the Green
River at about half-past one. There we beheld large heaps of iron
scattered about near the river, a grea