untimbered, uninhabited country for nearly four hundred miles, without
anything of especial interest occurring save cholera, from which there
was terrible suffering. We lost about seventy-five of our number before
we reached Fort Laramie, seven hundred miles from Missouri.

There was a Dutchman in my mess by the name of Lamalfa, who understood
but little of English. We had dubbed him "Macaroni" for having brought a
lot of the stuff with him and on our second night out it came his turn
to stand guard. He was detailed to the inner guard and instructed as to
his duties. On the relief of the outer sentinel and his return to camp,
Lamalfa issued the challenge which was to repeat three times "Who comes
there?" and in case of no response to fire, and as the outer sentinel
came upon him he called out "Who comes there three times" and fired;
fortunately he was a poor shot and no harm was done.

It seems that "Macaroni" was not aware of there being an outer guard.

When near Fort Childs, four hundred miles out, all the passengers left
the wagons, except the drivers, and walked on in advance, leaving the
wagons light (they were canvas covered). There came up one of those
terrible hailstorms, common in that country, which pelted the mules with
such severity as to cause them to take fright and run away, breaking
loose from the wagons which were taken by the storm in another
direction, first wheels up, then top, until the latter was all in rags;
then they stopped. When we came into camp at night they looked sorry
enough and you would have thought they had just come out of a fierce
fight.

We pursued our journey along the south bank of the Platte until we
reached Fort Laramie, capturing some antelopes and occasionally a