twenty-five miles from where Cheyenne stands today, and ninety miles
from Fort Laramie.

This was in the very heart of the Indian country. Our animals were to
haul in plows, tools and whatever was necessary in the constructing of
the new fort then building. The wagon-beds were taken from the wagons
to enable the hauling of greater loads. The beds were piled up at Fort
Laramie, and I was assigned to watch them. It was here that I had
abundant time and opportunity to study the West at first hand.
Heretofore I had been on the march. Now I was on fixed post with plenty
of time for observation.

Fort Laramie was an old frontier post, such as has not existed for many
years. Nearby, three or four thousand Sioux, Northern Cheyennes and
Northern Arapahoes were encamped, most of them spending much of the
time at the post. Laramie had been established by a fur-trading company
in 1834. In 1840 or thereabouts the Government bought it and made it a
military post. It had become the most famous meeting-place of the
Plains. Here the greatest Indian councils were held, and here also came
the most celebrated of the Indian fighters, men whose names had long
been known to me, but whom I never dared hope to see.

Kit Carson, Jim Bridger, Baker, Richards and other of the celebrated
hunters, trappers and Indian fighters were as familiar about the post
as are bankers in Wall Street. All these men fascinated me, especially
Carson, a small, dapper, quiet man whom everybody held in profound
respect.

I used to sit for hours and watch him and the others talk to the
Indians in the sign language. Without a sound they would carry on long