inviting me.

Camping out is really very nice when the weather is pleasant, but the
long marches are tiresome for everybody. The ambulances and wagons are
driven directly back of the troops, consequently the mules can never
go faster than a slow walk, and sometimes the dust is enough to choke
us. We have to keep together, for we are in an Indian country, of
course. I feel sorry for the men, but they always march "rout" step
and seem to have a good time, for we often hear them laughing and
joking with each other.

We are following the Arkansas River, and so far the scenery has been
monotonous--just the same rolling plains day after day. Leaving our
first army home was distressing, and I doubt if other homes and other
friends will ever be quite the same to me. Lieutenant Baldwin was
assisted to the porch by his faithful Mexican boy, so he could see us
start, and he looked white and pitifully helpless, with both arms
bandaged tight to his sides. One of those dreadful dogs is in camp and
going to Camp Supply with us, and is as frisky as though he had done
something to be proud of.

This cannot be posted until we reach Fort Dodge, but I intend to write
to you again while there, of course, if I have an opportunity.

FORT DODGE, KANSAS,
May, 1872.

IT was nearly two o'clock yesterday when we arrived at this post, and
we go on again to-day about eleven. The length of all marches has to
be regulated by water and wood, and as the first stream on the road to