fire-place and chimney
ingeniously constructed with sod. In these they lived very snugly
--four men in each--and would often amuse themselves by poking their
heads out and barking at the occupants of adjacent huts in imitation
of the prairie-dog, whose comfortable nests had probably suggested
the idea of dugouts. The men were much better off, in fact, than
many of the officers, for the high winds frequently made havoc with
our wall-tents. The horses and mules suffered most of all. They
could not be sheltered, and having neither grain nor grass, the poor
beasts were in no condition to stand the chilling blasts. Still, by
cutting down cottonwood-trees, and letting the animals browse on the
small soft branches, we managed to keep them up till, finally even
this wretched food beginning to grow scarce, I had all except a few
of the strongest sent to Fort Arbuckle, near which place we had been
able, fortunately, to purchase some fields of corn from the
half-civilized Chickasaws and Choctaws.

Through mismanagement, as previously noted, the greater part of the
supplies which I had ordered hauled to Arbuckle the preceding fall
had not got farther on the way than Fort Gibson, which post was about
four hundred miles off, and the road abominable, particularly east of
Arbuckle, where it ran through a low region called "boggy bottom."
All along this route were abandoned wagons, left sticking in the mud,
and hence the transportation was growing so short that I began to
fear trouble in getting subsistence up for the men. Still, it would
not do to withdraw, so I made a trip to Arbuckle chiefly for the
purpose of reorganizing the transportation, but also with a view to
opening a new route to that post, the road to lie on high ground, so
as to avoid the creeks and mud that had been giving us so much
trouble. If such a road could be made, I hoped to get up enough
rations and grain from the cornfields purchased to send out a
formidable expedition against the Cheyennes, so I set out for
Arbuckle accompanied by my quartermaster, Colonel A. J. McGonigle.
"California Joe" also went along to guide us through the scrub-oaks
covering the ridge, but even the most thorough exploration failed to
discover any route more practicable than that already in use; indeed,
the high ground was, if anything, worse than the bottom land, our
horses in the springy places and quicksands often miring to their
knees. The ground was so soft and wet, in fact,