t up.

In November, 1865, a detachment of Company L, of the Eleventh Kansas
Volunteers, and of the Second Colorado were ordered from Fort Larned
to Fort Lyon on a scouting expedition along the line of the Trail, the
savages having been very active in their raids on the freight caravans.

In a short time their tobacco began to run low, and as there was no
settlement of any kind between the two military posts, there was no
chance to replenish their stock. One night, while encamped on the
Arkansas, the only piece that was left in the whole command, about half
a plug, was unfortunately lost, and there was dismay in the camp when
the fact was announced. Hours were spent in searching for the missing
treasure. The next morning the march was delayed for some time, while
further diligent search was instituted by all hands, but without result,
and the command set out on its weary tramp, as disconsolate as may well
be imagined by those who are victims to the habit of chewing the weed.

Arriving at Fort Lyon, to their greater discomfort it was learned that
the sutler at that post was entirely out of the coveted article, and
the troops began their return journey more disconsolate than ever.
Dry leaves, grass, and even small bits of twigs, were chewed as a
substitute, until, reaching the spot where they had lost the part of
a plug, they determined to remain there that night and begin a more
vigorous hunt for the missing piece. Just before dark their efforts were
rewarded; one of the men found it, and such a scramble occurred for even
the smallest nibble at it! Enormous prices were given for a single chew.
It opened at one dollar for a mere sliver, rose to five, and closed at
ten dollars when the last morsel was left.

CHAPTER XXII. A DESPERATE RIDE.

In the Rocky Mountains and on the great plains along the line of the Old
Trail are many rude and widely separated graves. The sequestered little
valleys, the lonely gulches, and the broad prairies through which the
highway to New Mexico wound its course, hide the bones of hundreds of
whom the world will never have any more knowledge. The number of these
solitary, and almost obliterated mounds is small when compared with the
vast multitude in the cemeteries of our towns, though if the host of
those whose bones are mouldering under the short buffalo-grass and tall
blue-stem of the prairies between the Missouri and the mountains were
tabulated, the list would be appalling. The