Chapter 23

FORT LARAMIE was a military station and trading postcombined. It was a stone building in what they called a'compound' or open space, enclosed by a palisade. When wearrived there, it was occupied by a troop of mounted riflemenunder canvas, outside the compound. The officers lived inthe fort; and as we had letters to the Colonel - Somner - andto the Captain - Rhete, they were very kind and very usefulto us.

　　We pitched our camp by the Laramie river, four miles from thefort. Nearer than that there was not a blade of grass. Thecavalry horses and military mules needed all there was athand. Some of the mules we were allowed to buy, or exchangefor our own. We accordingly added six fresh ones to ourcavalcade, and parted with two horses; which gave us a totalof fifteen mules and six horses. Government provisions werenot to be had, so that we could not replenish our nowimpoverished stock. This was a serious matter, as will beseen before long. Nor was the evil lessened by my being laidup with a touch of fever - the effect, no doubt, of thosedrenches of stagnant water. The regimental doctor wasabsent. I could not be taken into the fort. And, as we hadno tent, and had thrown away almost everything but theclothes we wore, I had to rough it and take my chance. Somerelics of our medicine chest, together with a toughconstitution, pulled me through. But I was much weakened,and by no means fit for the work before us. Fred did hisbest to persuade me from going further. He confessed that hewas utterly sick of the expedition; that his injured kneeprevented him from hunting, or from being of any use inpacking and camp work; that the men were a set of ruffianswho did just as they chose - they grumbled at the hardships,yet helped themselves to the stores without restraint; thatwe had the Rocky Mountains yet to cross; after that, thecountry was unknown. Colonel Somner had strongly advised usto turn back. Forty of his men had tried two months ago tocarry despatches to the regiment's headquarters in Oregon.

　　Only five had got through; the rest had been killed andscalped. Finally, that we had something like 1,200 miles togo, and were already in the middle of August. It would befolly, obstinacy, madness, to attempt it. He would stop andhunt where we were, as long as I liked; or he would go backwith me. He would hire fresh good men, and buy new horses;and, now that we knew the country, we could get to St. Louisbefore the end of September, and' - . There was no reasonableanswer to be made. I simply told him I had thought it over,and had decided to go on. Like the plucky fellow and staunchfriend that he was, he merely shrugged his shoulders, andquietly said, 'Very well. So be it.'

　　Before leaving Fort Laramie a singular incident occurred,which must seem so improbable, that its narration may betaken for fiction. It was, however, a fact. There wasplenty of game near our camping ground; and though theweather was very hot, one of the party usually took thetrouble to bring in something to keep the pot supplied. Thesage hens, the buffalo or elk meat were handed over to Jacob,who made a stew with bacon and rice, enough for the eveningmeal and the morrow's breakfast. After supper, when everyonehad filled his stomach, the large kettle, covered with itslid, was taken off the fire, and this allowed to burn itselfout.

　　For four or five mornings running the kettle was found nearlyempty, and all hands had to put up with a cup of coffee andmouldy biscuit dust. There was a good deal ofunparliamentary language. Everyone accused everyone else offilthy greediness. It was disgusting that after eating allhe could, a man hadn't the decency to wait till the morning.

　　The pot had been full for supper, and, as every man couldsee, it was never half emptied - enough was always left forbreakfast. A resolution was accordingly passed that eachshould take his turn of an hour's watch at night, till theglutton was caught in the act.

　　My hour happened to be from 11 to 12 P.M. I stronglysuspected the thief to be an Indian, and loaded my big pistolwith slugs on the chance. It was a clear moonlight night. Ipropped myself comfortably with a bag of hams; and concealedmyself as well as I could in a bush of artemisia, which wasvery thick all round. I had not long been on the look-outwhen a large grey wolf prowled slowly out of the bushes. Thenight was bright as day; but every one of the men was soundasleep in a circle round the remains of the camp fire. Thewolf passed between them, hesitating as it almost touched acovering blanket. Step by step it crept up to the kettle,took the handle of the lid between its jaws, lifted it off,placed it noiselessly on the ground, and devoured the savourystew.

　　I could not fire, because of the men. I dared not move, lestI should disturb the robber. I was even afraid the click ofcocking the pistol would startle him and prevent my getting aquiet shot. But patience was rewarded. When satiated, thebrute retired as stealthily as he had advanced; and as hepassed within seven or eight yards of me I let him have it.

　　Great was my disappointment to see him scamper off. How wasit possible I could have missed him? I must have fired overhis back. The men jumped to their feet and clutched theirrifles; but, though astonished at my story, were soon at restagain. After this the kettle was never robbed. Four dayslater we were annoyed with such a stench that it was aquestion of shifting our quarters. In hunting for thenuisance amongst the thicket of wormwood, the dead wolf wasdiscovered not twenty yards from our centre.

　　The reader would not thank me for an account of themonotonous drudgery, the hardships, the quarrellings, whichgrew worse from day to day after we left Fort Laramie. Fredand I were about the only two who were on speaking terms; weclung to each other, as a sort of forlorn security againstcoming disasters. Gradually it was dawning on me that, underthe existing circumstances, the fulfilment of my hopes wouldbe (as Fred had predicted) an impossibility; and that topersist in the attempt to realise them was to courtdestruction. As yet, I said nothing of this to him. PerhapsI was ashamed to. Perhaps I secretly acknowledged to myselfthat he had been wiser than I, and that my stubbornness wasresponsible for the life itself of every one of the party.

　　Doubtless thoughts akin to these must often have haunted themind of my companion; but he never murmured; only uttered ahasty objurgation when troubles reached a climax, andinvariably ended with a burst of cheery laughter which onlythe sulkiest could resist. It was after a day of severetrials he proposed that we should go off by ourselves for acouple of nights in search of game, of which we were much inneed. The men were easily persuaded to halt and rest.

　　Samson had become a sort of nonentity. Dysentery hadterribly reduced his strength, and with it such intelligenceas he could boast of. We started at daybreak, right glad tobe alone together and away from the penal servitude to whichwe were condemned. We made for the Sweetwater, not very farfrom the foot of the South Pass, where antelope and black-tailed deer abounded. We failed, however, to get near them -stalk after stalk miscarried.

　　Disappointed and tired, we were looking out for some snuglittle hollow where we could light a fire without its beingseen by the Indians, when, just as we found what we wanted,an antelope trotted up to a brow to inspect us. I had afairly good shot at him and missed. This disheartened usboth. Meat was the one thing we now sorely needed to savethe rapidly diminishing supply of hams. Fred said nothing,but I saw by his look how this trifling accident helped todepress him. I was ready to cry with vexation. My rifle wasmy pride, the stag of my life - my ALTER EGO. It was neverout of my hands; every day I practised at prairie dogs, atsage hens, at a mark even if there was no game. A few daysbefore we got to Laramie I had killed, right and left, twowild ducks, the second on the wing; and now, when so muchdepended on it, I could not hit a thing as big as a donkey.

　　The fact is, I was the worse for illness. I had constantreturns of fever, with bad shivering fits, which did notimprove the steadiness of one's hand. However, we managed toget a supper. While we were examining the spot where theantelope had stood, a leveret jumped up, and I knocked himover with my remaining barrel. We fried him in the one tinplate we had brought with us, and thought it the mostdelicious dish we had had for weeks.

　　As we lay side by side, smoke curling peacefully from ourpipes, we chatted far into the night, of other days - ofCambridge, of our college friends, of London, of the opera,of balls, of women - the last a fruitful subject - and of thefuture. I was vastly amused at his sudden outburst as somestart of one of the horses picketed close to us reminded usof the actual present. 'If ever I get out of this d-d mess,'

　　he exclaimed, 'I'll never go anywhere without my own Frenchcook.' He kept his word, to the end of his life, I believe.

　　It was a delightful repose, a complete forgetting, for anight at any rate, of all impending care. Each was cheeredand strengthened for the work to come. The spirit ofenterprise, the love of adventure restored for the moment,believed itself a match for come what would. The veryanimals seemed invigorated by the rest and the abundance ofrich grass spreading as far as we could see. The morning wasbright and cool. A delicious bath in the Sweetwater, abreakfast on fried ham and coffee, and once more in oursaddles on the way back to camp, we felt (or fancied that wefelt) prepared for anything.

　　That is just what we were not. Samson and the men, meetingwith no game where we had left them, had moved on thatafternoon in search of better hunting grounds. The resultwas that when we overtook them, we found five mules up totheir necks in a muddy creek. The packs were sunk to thebottom, and the animals nearly drowned or strangled. Fredand I rushed to the rescue. At once we cut the ropes whichtied them together; and, setting the men to pull at tails orheads, succeeded at last in extricating them.

　　Our new-born vigour was nipped in the bud. We were alldrenched to the skin. Two packs containing the miserableremains of our wardrobe, Fred's and mine, were lost. Thecatastrophe produced a good deal of bad language and badblood. Translated into English it came to this: 'They hadtrusted to us, taking it for granted we knew what we wereabout. What business had we to "boss" the party if we wereas ignorant as the mules? We had guaranteed to lead themthrough to California [!] and had brought them into this"almighty fix" to slave like niggers and to starve.' Therewas just truth enough in the Jeremiad to make it sting. Itwould not have been prudent, nay, not very safe, to returncurse for curse. But the breaking point was reached at last.

　　That night I, for one, had not much sleep. I was soaked fromhead to foot, and had not a dry rag for a change. Alternatefits of fever and rigor would alone have kept me awake; butrenewed ponderings upon the situation and confirmedconvictions of the peremptory necessity of breaking up theparty, forced me to the conclusion that this was the right,the only, course to adopt.

　　For another twenty-four hours I brooded over my plans. Twomain difficulties confronted me: the announcement to themen, who might mutiny; and the parting with Fred, which Idreaded far the most of the two. Would he not think ittreacherous to cast him off after the sacrifices he had madefor me? Implicitly we were as good as pledged to stand byeach other to the last gasp. Was it not mean and dastardlyto run away from the battle because it was dangerous to fightit out? Had friendship no claims superior to personalsafety? Was not my decision prompted by sheer selfishness?

　　Could anything be said in its defence?

　　Yes; sentiment must yield to reason. To go on was certaindeath for all. It was not too late to return, for those whowished it. And when I had demonstrated, as I could easilydo, the impossibility of continuance, each one could decidefor himself. The men were as reckless as they were ignorant.

　　However they might execrate us, we were still their naturalleaders: their blame, indeed, implied they felt it. Nosentimental argument could obscure this truth, and thisconviction was decisive.

　　The next night and the day after were, from a moral point ofview, the most trying perhaps, of the whole journey. We hadhalted on a wide, open plain. Due west of us in the fardistance rose the snowy peaks of the mountains. And theprairie on that side terminated in bluffs, rising graduallyto higher spurs of the range. When the packs were thrownoff, and the men had turned, as usual, to help themselves tosupper, I drew Fred aside and imparted my resolution to him.

　　He listened to it calmly - much more so than I had expected.

　　Yet it was easy to see by his unusual seriousness that hefully weighed the gravity of the purpose. All he said at thetime was, 'Let us talk it over after the men are asleep.'

　　We did so. We placed our saddles side by side - they wereour regular pillows - and, covering ourselves with the sameblanket, well out of ear-shot, discussed the proposition fromevery practical aspect. He now combated my scheme, as Ialways supposed he would, by laying stress upon our bond offriendship. This was met on my part by the arguments alreadyset forth. He then proposed an amendment, which almost upsetmy decision. 'It is true,' he admitted, 'that we cannot getthrough as we are going now; the provisions will not hold outanother month, and it is useless to attempt to control themen. But there are two ways out of the difficulty: we canreach Salt Lake City and winter there; or, if you are bent ongoing to California, why shouldn't we take Jacob and Nelson(the Canadian), pay off the rest of the brutes, and traveltogether, - us four?'

　　Whether 'das ewig Wirkende' that shapes our ends bebeneficent or malignant is not easy to tell, till after theevent. Certain it is that sometimes we seem impelled bylatent forces stronger than ourselves - if by self be meantone's will. We cannot give a reason for all we do; theinfinite chain of cause and effect, which has had nobeginning and will have no end, is part of the reckoning, -with this, finite minds can never grapple.

　　It was destined (my stubbornness was none of my making) thatI should remain obdurate. Fred's last resource was anattempt to persuade me (he really believed: I, too, thoughtit likely) that the men would show fight, annex beasts andprovisions, and leave us to shift for ourselves. There weresix of them, armed as we were, to us three, or rather us two,for Samson was a negligible quantity. 'We shall see,' saidI; and by degrees we dropped asleep.