gather in brain and lungs. And these, too, are the ones who have time
to discover so many faults in others, and become our garrison gossips!
If they would take brisk rides on spirited horses in this wonderful
air, and learn to shoot all sorts of guns in all sorts of positions,
they would soon discover that a frontier post can furnish plenty of
excitement. At least, I have found that it can.

Faye was very anxious for me to become a good shot, considering it
most essential in this Indian country, and to please him I commenced
practicing soon after we got here. It was hard work at first, and I
had many a bad headache from the noise of the guns. It was all done in
a systematic way, too, as though I was a soldier at target practice.
They taught me to use a pistol in various positions while standing;
then I learned to use it from the saddle. After that a little
four-inch bull's-eye was often tacked to a tree seventy-five paces
away, and I was given a Spencer carbine to shoot (a short magazine
rifle used by the cavalry), and many a time I have fired three rounds,
twenty-one shots in all, at the bull's-eye, which I was expected to
hit every time, too.

Well, I obligingly furnished amusement for Faye and Lieutenant Baldwin
until they asked me to fire a heavy Springfield rifle--an infantry
gun. After one shot I politely refused to touch the thing again. The
noise came near making me deaf for life; the big thing rudely "kicked"
me over on my back, and the bullet--I expect that ball is still on
its way to Mars or perhaps the moon. This earth it certainly did not
hit! Faye is with the company almost every morning, but after luncheon
we usually go out for two or three hours, and always come back
refreshed by the exercise. And the little house looks more cozy, and
the snapping of the blazing logs sounds more cheerful because of our