hanging them over their wagon covers outside. Gritty? Yes, but not worse than Platte water.
July 30 we reached Fort Laramie late and camped just west of the line between Indian camps and the fort. Companies of Shaw and Morrison together. Captain Shaw was officer of the day, and myself acting as first sergeant, for Rees was yet on the sick list. Under orders, I placed all the guard except one—the man married on the night of July 4, but prevented from fulfilling his contract by his father's old flintlock pistols. Now hid in fear, and screened by his old mother insisting "it is not John's turn to stand guard to-night"—
"A laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Unworthy the Helen of young Lockinvar."
I returned to report this to Captain Shaw at the guard tent, passing on the way the spot where I had a few minutes before placed a man of a family, around whose name hung hints of membership in John A. Merrill's gang. His wagon was in sight, and there was light enough for me to see a movement in the opening of the cover of the hind end of the wagon, which was toward me. In disgust, but not understanding the meaning, I got to the guard tent just as Captain Shaw came from being around the cattle. I told him with some heat of both of these skulks, and he replied, "Well, John, I expect they're afeared. But let's not say anything about it; let's you and me take their places." Brave and true, patient, carefully watchful, Uncle Billy Shaw.
July 31 I started out after breakfast to look at the camp of the Sioux Indians. There were here some twenty lodges, or tepees. There were not many men in sight. One group of three or four, and two or three walking about singly, were all that appeared. I met one that looked as though he were on dress parade. I have
