What had been taken for a hundred Indian lodges turned out to be the
camp of a Government train on its way to Fort Stevenson, and the
officer in charge seeing the scouts before they discovered him, and
believing them to be Sioux, had sent out to bring his herds in. It
would be hard to exaggerate the relief that this discovery gave us,
and we all breathed much easier. The scare was a bad one, and I have
no hesitation in saying that, had we been mounted, it is more than
likely that, instead of showing fight, we would have taken up a
lively pace for Fort Stevenson.
After reciprocal explanations with the officer in charge of the
train, the march was resumed, and at the close of that day we camped
near a small lake about twenty miles from Fort Totten. From Totten
we journeyed on to Fort Abercrombie. The country between the two
posts is low and flat, and I verily believe was then the favorite
abiding-place of the mosquito, no matter where he most loves to dwell
now; for myriads of the pests rose up out of the tall rank grass
--more than I ever saw before or since--and viciously attacked both
men and animals. We ourselves were somewhat protected by gloves and
head-nets, provided us before leaving Totten, but notwithstanding these
our sufferings were well-nigh intolerable; the annoyance that the poor
mules experienced must, therefore, have been extreme; indeed, they were
so terribly stung that the blood fairly trickled down their sides.
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